I was trying to corral a dozen or so 5-year olds on Sunday morning at church and in the midst of it, Shade walks over, taps me on the shoulder and says with the kind of grin that only a young child can display, looks me right in the eye and says, "I love you."
I was so caught off guard by his announcement that I stuttered for a moment. I don't know that he was one of the children that had ever gravitated toward me in the past or me to him, but for whatever reason, he felt compelled to whisper those words to me on that Sunday morning, without prompting, without reason.
And in the ensuing moments, I thought, "
How?"
How could someone see a little child like this, like Zachariah, like Ava, like Abby - and so senselessly and needlessly destroy their little lives? It's inconceivable. Mind-blowing.
And maybe if I'm really honest, I wondered how
God could let this happen. Because I want to blame somebody, I want to get mad at somebody. And sometimes it's just easiest to blame God.
Friday afternoon was the first time I found myself in a long, long time opening the doorway to a slightly dark and deep hole of bitterness and resentment. It's a terrifying feeling, especially once you've been there long ago and vowed never to go back there. I know what that bitterness and resentment is like. I know what it's like to shake your fist at God and demand answers, demand he tell you "why", demand that he make it all right somehow. And after making such demands all those years ago, I wound up in a pit so dark and deep that I learned I don't ever want to go back there again.
And I felt those sworn-off sentiments rise up on Friday as I watched the news and read the headlines and heard the radio broadcasts. I felt them bubbling up from deep within, questioning all over again, wondering if I really knew God at all.
I know everybody is commenting. I know a lot of people are reeling from the pain and the horror. I am one among many. So I don't know that I have anything new to say.
All I know is this - at the end of the day, even when I don't understand all that happens around me, even when I don't understand the heinous, heinous evil -
I know and believe that God still sits on his throne. And I know that Satan is on the mission of a lifetime to do everything he can to destroy
life. He came to steal, kill and destroy, make no mistake about it. But he knows his end is nearing and that makes him all the more desperate.
But if Satan is desperate then God is obsessed. He's obsessed with his people, the ones he called unto himself, created for himself. Not one life ends without his knowledge, without his notice. He is not some calloused God sitting on his throne, unaware of all that is happening here on this little blue marble.
He is here and he is not silent. And that's what I'm holding on to.
"Sometimes I don't feel like singing to God...I know that my circumstance in this season doesn't change that God is still God. It doesn't change what God called me to be here or what he has called me to do. He's still on the throne of heaven and he still rules and he's still bigger than everything I'm facing."
