It’s been a rough week in America. The disheartening explosions in Boston, the deadly blast in West – both weighing heavily on our hearts. There were notable deaths of beloved Americans. I’m sure other countries had rough weeks as well, but this is where I live.
In the grief groups to which I have belonged there is a common word picture to describe grief: a walk in the fog. Many have described, and I have experienced, emerging from the fog after a time of mourning and sorrow. It’s not that it doesn’t hurt any more, but brightness begins to take over the darkness.
I ran across this quote by Reagan speechwriter and columnist Peggy Noonan:
“I love eulogies. They are the most moving kind of speech because they attempt to pluck meaning from the fog, and on short order, when the emotions are still ragged and raw and susceptible to leaps.”
All across Twitter and Facebook and websites this week we’ve been trying to pluck meaning from the fog. I am not sure we do ourselves any justice by trying to rush the process. Some things we will just never know. Why? That’s the big one.
Emotions are still ragged and raw and susceptible to leaps. There are so many distressing events happening all around us each day. I’m almost ready to throw my hat in the ring with the conspiracy theorists. I would, but I’m not so much in need of an answer as I am someone to lead the way. A Shepherd.
Read often during eulogies, the Twenty Third Psalm is soothing to the heart. Why don’t you contemplate it for a moment today? I know you’ve read it and can even probably quote it. But let your heart linger over the familiar words … take a deep breath … concentrate on the One who will lead you through the valleys you’d rather not travel. And trust Him.
Thank for reading, John.
“God, I Hate You. Love, Madeline.” Read Before You Leap by John Mark Hicks
They Call it Heartbreak Hill by Adam Thomas
To Boston With Love by Tim Gunnels
West, Texas and the Memory of a Song by Jim Martin (who ministers in Waco, TX)
Ten Simple Strategies for Prayer by Chuck Lawless