Tragedy...Triumphant.... Somehow

I don't even know where to begin.  I feel like everyone with any heart at all is focused on the devastation of Moore, Oklahoma tonight.  Every parent is tucking their children in and thinking of those standing outside the dark, destroyed rubble where they dropped their children off and probably watched them bounce into their school just a few hours prior. The feeling we have in the pit of our stomachs doesn't even begin to manifest a hint of the truth of their pain tonight.

God?

On the cusp of our own ongoing trials with our adopted daughter, I find myself looking upward.  "God?" Strangely, I find my heart not saying, "Why, God?" I really don't.  Instead I just find myself looking to Him, clinging to the fact that I believe Him and wondering just how it is this is going to bring Him great glory. How can something like this, be a Kingdom thing?  Yet, even when I don't see Him, feel Him, or understand Him, especially in times like this, I believe Him.  I believe Him for what is taking place in our lives and I believe Him for every shattered life in Oklahoma.  I do. Because of who I personally know Him to be, even tonight when I am drawn to the news station and my mind is racing as I try to wrap my thoughts around children perishing, and the way it seems they have, I still believe Him. 

I have no doubt many tonight are asking, "What is there to to believe?  Where was God today?"  I get it.  I do.  I really, really do.  As a mom who stood weeping by my sweet, little boy's casket, and now, in the depths of a nightmare with a teen, wayward daughter who chases her roots rather than her redemption through Christ and adoption, I get it. 

Still... I believe. 

Like the rest of the world, when I heard the news, I stood, almost motionless, instantly engulfed in a stooper of confusion.  I had just walked out of my own school and classroom, where I had shared space with precious children that belonged to other moms and dads.  I had just hugged on them, corrected them, enjoyed them, and celebrated another day closer to summer with them.  The same place where I sent my precious youngest daughter off to her classroom never considering anything but a successful day for her as well. And while all that was occurring for me,  I was totally oblivious to what was occurring in Moore, OK.

Therefore, when I finally heard, it just paralyzed me.  Immediately, I thought of those that live there. I reached out and confirmed safety for those and was relieved to know they each were okay, except one who was still uncertain of his mother-in-law.  I still don't know that answer. Then, the news of the schools rushed over me in a way that I can't express.  It's like I could envision those teachers as my colleagues and I shuddered when I realized I could envision my students... and my own children... as I heard of the horror of the storms path!

Empathy is a blessing.  I am thankful God made me to feel and feel deep. But days like this, it is a suffocating reality because the details just suck me in and attack my very core.  I feel it tonight.  I don't know a soul that is suffering, but I feel it. It's more than a news story.  I feel it.  Not in any way, shape, or form the way those directly affected of course.  I would never compare my reaction to their horrible reality.  Yet, I am drawn to the news, waiting with anticipation for the hope that they are wrong, yet fighting a constant lump in my throat, understanding, most likely they are not.  Those 30 something children....  I feel it and I am aching.

But I believe.

Again, what? how?  why?  Believe?  Now? Again?  BELIEVE?

Yes.  I really, really believe.

We are already seeing the beginning of the touch of God.  Not in the hurt.  Not in the loss, but in the hands that immediately went to work to search;  In the hearts that immediately began to pray;  In the organizations, churches, and individuals that instantly began the rally to call us together across this country.  One person isn't enough, but a country pulling together can bring a slight touch of hope in a time when all hope could seem lost.  And whether the many nay-sayers admit it or not, I know... I KNOW... that is GOD!  He has begun the revelation even in the horror of the suffering that has only just begun for those precious people in Moore tonight.

The word says, "The Lord is near to the broken hearted" Psalms 34:18.

That's all that I know right now.  God is near.  When I begin to suffocate at the thought of the confirmed 7 children that drown in their school, and the expectancy that they will find other precious children, teachers, and administrators in the same way, I just hold to the fact that God is near.

I can almost see Him in the darkness with them as the tornado came near.  Somehow, I just believe those kids began to see HIM and the horrific reality that we are aware of was blocked from them because God drew near.  I just believe that.  I do.  I cling to that in times like this.

And I can say it, not in theory, but because I SAW it for myself.

I didn't see God.  But I can tell you, from the look on my son's face when he leaped into heaven, I have no doubt he did.  I remember that night so vividly.  I was rushing into the hospital, knowing he was critical again.  This was happening so often (ever 7-10 hours at that point)n that we knew the signs when our son was crashing again.  His little body was ravaged with pain and suffering when we would reach that point.  So, when I flung open the back door and saw his face, I knew.  I KNEW.  He had seen the face of God.  It is burned in my mind the peace and joy I saw in his little lifeless body.  I wasn't able to comprehend it at the time, but God burned that image into my mind so that it could be my comfort in the days, months, and now years ahead. 

And I believe with all of my heart, before their physical bodies began to suffer, God met them there... and all they knew was indescribable joy.  God drew near.

And tonight, I cling to the promise that He gave evidence to me through my dying son, that God DOES draw near.

I believe. 

I hurt, I cry out, I can't stand how hard it is.... but I believe.

I am sure the whole country is struggling like I am tonight.  And I am quite certain I am not the only mom facing a devastating crisis of a different nature where ugly seems to close in.  So I just have to close my eyes, see that face and ask God to draw near to each person they way He did to my son.

There... His hope will be found and out of the ashes will come His GLORIOUS beauty.

Clinging,

Robin