Yesterday, as I rolled over on the couch I have learned to call my bed, I glanced out the window much as a groundhog peeks out of his hole. Gazing from our relative perches, we both desire to see what the weather holds for us. If things look ominous and chilly, I, like the groundhog, roll back over to wait in hopes my fortunes will change. But yesterday, I just stared. Great white things were pouring from solid white above and falling to whiteness below. It took me, a snow-virgin Southerner, a moment to realize what was going on. Brno was experiencing her first snow of the season.
Now as fun and lovely as this may sound, it does have me quite a bit worried as we are only in the first week of November. Nonetheless, the time for snowstorms has come. And such white masses are not the only storms rolling through right now. Across the great pond, South Carolina has seen one cloud her skies this past week too. She is walking head down, shoulders hunched struggling as the pellets pour down. Grieving and questioning are racking my campus. It is an awful time. In such immense grief, though, we know that we are neither the first nor the last who will face such tragedies. Last year, it was Virginia Tech. Tomorrow, it could be at home. We live in a world that has fallen among fallen people. While it is fallen, it is not random. We know that “the God who controls the wheeling galaxies and who spoke before the foundation of the world must be the God who holds the smallest circumstances of [our lives] in His hands. We are encompassed on all sides by the Almighty. ‘His tender mercies are over all His works,’ ‘steadfast love surrounds him who trusts in the Lord,’ and ‘underneath are the Everlasting Arms.’ Over, around, underneath. We are enfolded ” (Elisabeth Elliot).
Our God is in charge and His will is being fulfilled. When we read what we acknowledge as the “Good News,” the snow and rains almost drip out of the pages. Storms are everywhere. Yet as the centurion recognizes through faith as his daughter lay dying, every storm is obedient to the command of the Ruler of all just as his soldiers unquestionably obeyed earthly orders. In Job, Elihu declares, “He [God] loads the thick cloud with moisture; He scatters the cloud of His lightening. And it is turned round about by His guidance, that they may do whatever He commands then upon the face of the habitable earth. Whether it be for correction or for His earth [generally] or for His mercy and loving-kindness.”
They look different. They consist of different things. But God is the Supreme Creator of all, and He is over each of these storms. Storms are often the very place we hear Him the clearest; they are the opener for the concert of His voice. For in tragedy, knees crumple to the floor in anguish. The only other instance in which we see mankind universally hitting their knees is in a posture of subservience. And thus we hit our knees to pray. There we recognize our unworthiness and seek the face of the Father. This is not a coincidence. During tragedies, we are already on our knees in a posture of obedience and humbleness. Knowing we are not enough and will never be. Knowing He is and always has been and always will be. That is why the God of all, the God over every storm came and faced them in the greatest way possible. That is why He died on the cross. So that He could cloak our unworthiness in His worthiness, and thus covered, we rise with Him to a new life beyond this fallen one now. This is the same God who commands the lightening and thunder. This is the God I serve, and the God who loves you so much He died for you before you could ever recognize what He was doing and knowing you could never express appropriate thanks. This is the God who longs for you to know Him. His name is Jesus. It is Him we praise in and out of storms, knowing in Him we have nothing to fear.
Remember, we have a God who has been known to sometimes quiet the waves of the storms and sometimes to set foot and walk on them.
Now as fun and lovely as this may sound, it does have me quite a bit worried as we are only in the first week of November. Nonetheless, the time for snowstorms has come. And such white masses are not the only storms rolling through right now. Across the great pond, South Carolina has seen one cloud her skies this past week too. She is walking head down, shoulders hunched struggling as the pellets pour down. Grieving and questioning are racking my campus. It is an awful time. In such immense grief, though, we know that we are neither the first nor the last who will face such tragedies. Last year, it was Virginia Tech. Tomorrow, it could be at home. We live in a world that has fallen among fallen people. While it is fallen, it is not random. We know that “the God who controls the wheeling galaxies and who spoke before the foundation of the world must be the God who holds the smallest circumstances of [our lives] in His hands. We are encompassed on all sides by the Almighty. ‘His tender mercies are over all His works,’ ‘steadfast love surrounds him who trusts in the Lord,’ and ‘underneath are the Everlasting Arms.’ Over, around, underneath. We are enfolded ” (Elisabeth Elliot).
Our God is in charge and His will is being fulfilled. When we read what we acknowledge as the “Good News,” the snow and rains almost drip out of the pages. Storms are everywhere. Yet as the centurion recognizes through faith as his daughter lay dying, every storm is obedient to the command of the Ruler of all just as his soldiers unquestionably obeyed earthly orders. In Job, Elihu declares, “He [God] loads the thick cloud with moisture; He scatters the cloud of His lightening. And it is turned round about by His guidance, that they may do whatever He commands then upon the face of the habitable earth. Whether it be for correction or for His earth [generally] or for His mercy and loving-kindness.”
They look different. They consist of different things. But God is the Supreme Creator of all, and He is over each of these storms. Storms are often the very place we hear Him the clearest; they are the opener for the concert of His voice. For in tragedy, knees crumple to the floor in anguish. The only other instance in which we see mankind universally hitting their knees is in a posture of subservience. And thus we hit our knees to pray. There we recognize our unworthiness and seek the face of the Father. This is not a coincidence. During tragedies, we are already on our knees in a posture of obedience and humbleness. Knowing we are not enough and will never be. Knowing He is and always has been and always will be. That is why the God of all, the God over every storm came and faced them in the greatest way possible. That is why He died on the cross. So that He could cloak our unworthiness in His worthiness, and thus covered, we rise with Him to a new life beyond this fallen one now. This is the same God who commands the lightening and thunder. This is the God I serve, and the God who loves you so much He died for you before you could ever recognize what He was doing and knowing you could never express appropriate thanks. This is the God who longs for you to know Him. His name is Jesus. It is Him we praise in and out of storms, knowing in Him we have nothing to fear.
Remember, we have a God who has been known to sometimes quiet the waves of the storms and sometimes to set foot and walk on them.
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