The Sky is Falling

I refuse to let despair cut into me. I’m not made of just muck and mud. I’m made of the breath of God. And his Holy Spirit courses through me. You and me, we’re eternal; “no mere mortals.”

The last twelve days gouged us. All of us.

And from every side I’m yelled out, told what I should do, what I should say, how I should feel on the other side of national and international tragedy. Well, I’m tired of the yelling. I’m tired of the polarizing political rhetoric from progressives, conservatives, liberals, both political and religious.

At one point, I found myself glued to news websites and Twitter, addicted to it all; the bitterness in my mouth, the indignation in my heart, the hatred for evil, the sadness of racism. I just wanted to keep reading, keep watching. But I tore myself away.

What should I do? Well, the internet told me.

I was told that prayer is not enough. I was told I was racist. I was told I should attend an activist gathering, to stand with everyone else.

Well, I happen to believe that prayer, the prayer that comes from contrition, from a humble heart, is the most powerful act in which I can partake. I also believe that living is what I need to do most.

I need to live as a peaceful man.

I need to live as a passionate man.

I need to live as a prayerful man.

I need to live as a humble man.

I need to live as a man eager to learn, process, and change.

And I need to let my three young daughters see it. I need them to see me praying for God to change my heart. To help me see the world through his eyes. For love is not blared from the media or social media, it’s nurtured in the quiet mornings, around the dinner table. It grows in laughter, in tears, in hard questions, in sweet reflection.

Yelling on the internet is not doing something. It’s just adding to the noise. You haven’t convinced anyone with your yelling. The one who convinces me is the one who loves me. Who sits with me around my fire in the backyard, sharing times, sharing learning.

What can I do? I can live, following hard after Christ. I can observe the events of today, and apply my heart and mind to learning more about the issues, yes, but more so to what the Word of God says about these issues.

What can I do? I can restrain my very human inclination to look at the sky and say, “It’s falling!” 

It’s not falling.

On the contrary, the Apostle Paul implores Christians to set our minds on things above, not things on the earth. My vision for the world should be expressed through a heavenly lens. That doesn’t mean we live in the clouds and are no earthly good. Rather, our vision looks skyward.

Skyward we see, and skyward we go. And we take the world with us. The world is on fire. And, like one acquaintance of mine noted (on Twitter), it’s been on fire for quite some time.

The recent atrocities should shake us. They should wake us up. But not to death. But to life! And all that means. A movement from glory to glory; living like light illuminating goodness, living like a river roaring beauty, living like an ocean heaving wonder, living like the stars beckoning into the beyond.

What can I do? I can live in the scars of the times. I can pray for the “light to shine through.” And I can live like it will. I can live a Jesus-life, reaching into wounds with healing hands, healing words, healing tears.

I can seize this world-fire and hide it in my heart and bathe it in prayer; bathe it in my life lived in the everyday wonder of being, serving, discipling my children, loving my wife, loving other Christians, loving the world.

How do we love? We give ourselves up, to everyone. We empty ourselves of power, status, entitlement, and nail ourselves to this splintered world singing a splintersong. My love is supposed to speak through Psalms, spiritual songs, and hymns.

My love is not supposed to grind on the bitterness like a cow’s cud. I spit it out, daily, and look skyward, living skyward, bringing the burning with me into the fire consuming.

We humans are dying, dividing, and damning. But I refuse. God’s invited me skyward. If I’m going to burn, I’ll burn in him.