Terrorist attacks overseas, protesters and rallies nearby. Arrests here, bombings there. We face a unique point in history where large-scale violence is teetering along the line of commonplace, and the media is flooding our TVs, radios and podcasts with current events that are dire and heart-wrenching, certainly painful to the hearers, yet obviously so much more to the victims as well.
Then, there's the suffering in our own backyard, the cries of our friends and family. A sister's MRI reveals early traces of MS, a girlfriend struggles with postpartum depression and has proven she can't be trusted alone with baby, and grandpa tries to celebrate the holidays alone for the first time this year, without his bride.
Bad news; it seems as if we're always surrounded by it, unable to escape. When we read the headlines and listen to the reporters, you can almost feel the pain and hear the cries for help. When we watch the health of our friends deteriorate and their families suffer, the devastation sucks the air out of the room making it hard to breathe.
We wince at the news, clutch our children a little closer, and wonder what the heck this world is coming to. Whether it's personal or global, the pang of shock knocks us off our feet, and in our disbelief, we can't help but repeat, "Is this really happening?"
I myself was diagnosed with Hodgkin's Lymphoma a few years back, at the ripe age of 23. With no family history of any form of cancer, my knees buckled at the news. As my oncologist ranted on and on about potential side-effects and gloomy statistics, I choked on despair, a bit of hopelessness. And as I went through months of chemo and radiation, the slew of physical suffering was sometimes unbearable.
But the lesson I learned then is the same I'm carrying through life today: When the nights are all too dark and the fear is quivering inside of us, our response can either be one of two things. 1) Shake our head in the hopelessness of this world, or 2) Drop to our knees in the hopefulness of our God.
It's probably obvious God is pulling for us to choose option #2. Because the truth is Jesus didn't die on the cross for nothing. He didn't suffer a gruesome death, just so we could continue to suffer ourselves. And He didn't rise again overcoming death, just so we could live as if he didn't: without hope, without power, without any control.
Instead, when the war is waging, fear is suffocating, and our knees are shaking, that's the time God calls his people to start claiming the victory that's been rightfully handed down to us. Because the truth is He's already promised triumph over our enemy; the same Holy Spirit who raised Jesus from his grave lives IN us today. But it's going to require His people to pick up their shield of faith by relentlessly believing in His Word, and wield the sword of the Spirit by praying bold prayers.
God's character is still the same as when the Israelites were wandering through the wilderness. Even when circumstances scream otherwise, He's still reminding His people that He's up to something, that He's taking care of us, that if we would only hold on, His good plans would come to pass and we would settle in a land overflowing with milk and honey.
I want to see that happen. I want to see good overcome evil, healing more prevalent than pain, and restoration more commonplace than brokenness. Today, as a church, let's be those people and rise up to the call He's given us. Let's believe that our God really can do all things, really has the power to save and heal, and really can use his people to bring his kingdom to this world.
And through bold prayers and an unyielding faith, let's cling to hope and wait confidently for His hand to move. Because He will. That's the God I wish you knew. Praise the God who gives us everything we'll need in our battle to come out the other end; our soul unscathed, untouched, pure as gold.
