Never in my life have I lived through a month like this past one. Arguably, no one has. Friends have sat in so much pain, and watching it has ripped me to shreds. Now, I sit in a room, thankful to still have a home, as people 10 minutes from me pick up shambles of what used to stand as their strong mighty home. A strong mighty home where many sat together and watched an Easter service, just 12 hours before. In the past month, jobs have been lost- left and right. The nation is at a stand still, while we wait for peace that feels like it may never come. An uncertainty like no other, wondering if the world will ever be the same again after this.
I hope it never is. I hope it is never the same.
I hope we never take for granted the health of our nation. I hope we never forget the power of God. I hope we never forget that we are incredibly small, with so much constantly subject to change. I hope we never take for granted our homes, our neighbors, and our roads that lead us to places we want to be. I hope we never take for granted the restaurants, the hair salons, the simple joys. As prior to this, we ignorantly touched the gas pumps, the buggies, sat in the tables, with less cares then we will ever have again.
Sitting in so much somber, sitting in so much pain that is completely out of control, the song, “Where are you Christmas?” rings in my ears. Except, I don’t ask “Where are you Christmas?” I ask,
“Where are you Jesus?”
Where are you? In the fear? In the pain? In the hospitals? In the hurt? Are you listening to our cries? Are you listening to our prayers?
I’d like to think, if Jesus was sitting right here with me. Reading what I typed as the words flowed, he would say, “Are you listening to me Rachel?”
Am I listening to him beg me to slow down?
Am I listening to him give me more time, time that I usually say I don’t have?
Am I listening to him asking me to change? To grow?
Am I listening when he asks me to go help my neighbor?
Maybe, my question should no longer be, “Where are you Jesus?” Maybe, it should be,“Where have I been?”
What were my priorities?
Was I even listening to him?
Did I take the time to be still?
Did I take everything he gave for granted?
Not having answers, not having a home, not being in a normal routine can seem to pale in comparison to the words I’ve said above. Communities beyond Chattanooga are crying out for God’s mercy. These days, I think it is more important than ever to pay attention to his little mercies. To look for his attentiveness to us each day.
I’d like to think despite the pain that surrounds all of us, good will come. I’d like to think we will never forget the days communities rallied to serve others who lost it all. That we will never forget the healthcare who served us in ways they never imagined they would have to. That we would never forget, on our hardest days, where there seems to be no light at the end- the goodness of God. The goodness in neighborhood walks. The goodness in more time with family. The goodness in new recipes. The goodness in growth. Even in this impossible pain, he is right here. He is sitting in it. He is sitting at the table during dinner, during fearful phone calls, during the loss of everything.
I know this, because Deuteronomy 31:6 says, “ Be strong and courageous; don’t be terrified or afraid of them. For it is the Lord your God who goes with you; He will not leave you or forsake you.”
When I look right to left, when I scroll on social media, when I call to check on friends and I can’t help but wonder where the Lord is, I am reminded he has not left. That his steadfastness, his abundance, and his grace has not left. It has not left even in times when it is hard to find. Where is Jesus? He is still here.