"Wake up! Gather our belongings and meet in the hotel lobby!" Banging on the door aroused us from the beds we had just settled into. Frantically we followed orders and and joined our teammates and other guests to await our fate. There we received the news we had feared.
"How will I know this for certain?" Zechariah asked and God called his question unbelief. Mary asked "How will this be?" and God said she believed. So why was Zechariah’s question not acceptable and Mary’s was?
As a way to deal with the 2020 pandemic, I am remembering God's goodness and protection and telling of his works to the next generation. This is the first in a series on the Lombok riots of January 2000 — another time when life was upended, uncertain, and anxiety-ridden.
I am amazed by the parallels and applications to our current crisis in this encounter of Jesus with ten men who had leprosy. The "disease" of our world feels overwhelming. Many in unhappy circumstances have shared their stories lately. Like Jesus, I am moved pity.
My world seems upside down. I am sad and pierced. What do I do with this? First I stand still in sadness, lament and engage in life-giving activities. Then, lest I am tempted to get stuck here, I am challenged to persevere through my weariness. Next, I turn back to Psalm 77 for more instruction.
“I think I’m depressed,” I told my husband. “I have no motivation to do my work. I only want to do macrame all day. What’s wrong with me? Is it hormones, aging, or this pandemic?” Along with much of the world, I was, at that moment, weary and losing heart.
"Lament is a raw, unfiltered cry to God based on trust in his character and with hope for his resolution." It asks, "Why Lord, and how long?"
Feelings of sadness have flooded my soul and the social media of my friends and family. We are sad, both individually and collectively. And we have every right to be.