How Long, Oh Lord?

I started a post on Instagram and ran out of room. Yes, there is a word limit in case you're wondering. It can be hard to articulate a thought in a quick sound bite, caption, or drive by hot take. So, I decided to put the unedited version here.

I've been quiet around here lately mostly because I haven't been able to find the words to articulate all the thoughts I've had the last several weeks. This powerful image kind of summed up how I've been feeling.

The statistics are staggering. Russia has fired 900 missiles in 20 days killing thousands of civilians. Millions have fled the country of Ukraine being displaced all across Eastern Europe. Ukraine is roughly the size of Texas, and the number of people that have fled is equivalent to the populations of Dallas and Houston.

While I know the news headlines are bottomless pits and ever-changing by the minute, it's hard sometimes to not feel the sheer weight of my finite self. The overwhelm of the world and it's groanings offers me an opportunity to withdraw, close up, and retreat, OR to redouble my efforts to serve in love those who are within my circle of influence.

Although I'm not able to hug my friends, cook meals, or make beds for the suffering halfway around the world, I am able to do that for the people right here in my own home and neighborhood. Our friends in Bucharest have turned their ministry office into a refugee shelter with 52 beds providing a place to rest, sleep, get warm meals, counseling, medical care, transport, and assistance in transitioning them to further destinations (already serving 175+ people who have passed through). Other friends, now in Poland, have set up a similar shelter for the same purposes. Amidst all the bad news, we see glimpses of glory. God's goodness for protection and provision, and most importantly the opportunity for the gospel to be shared.

I've been reading Learning in War-Time by C. S. Lewis, A sermon preached in the Church of St. Mary the Virgin, Oxford, Autumn, 1939. What encouragement! What conviction! Below is an excerpt that spoke to where I find myself in this moment of time and space.

We see unmistakable the sort of universe in which we have all along been living, and must come to terms with it. If we had foolish un-Christian hopes about human culture, they are now shattered. If we thought we were building up a heaven on earth, if we looked for something that would turn the present world from a place of pilgrimage into a permanent city satisfying the soul of man, we are disillusioned, and not a moment too soon. But if we thought that for some souls, and at some times, the life of learning, humbly offered to God, was, in its own small way, one of the appointed approaches to the Divine reality and the Divine beauty which we hope to enjoy hereafter, we can think so still.

This sermon takes place at a university and Lewis posits the questions: What is the use of beginning a task which we have so little chance of finishing? Or, even if we ourselves should happen not to be interrupted by death or military service, why should we -- indeed how can we -- continue to take an interest in these placid occupations when the lives of our friends and the liberties of Europe are in the balance? Is it not like fiddling while Rome burns?

Now it seems to me that we shall not be able to answer these questions until we have put them by the side of certain other questions which every Christian ought to have asked himself in peace-time. I spoke just now of fiddling while Rome burns. But to a Christian the true tragedy of Nero must be not that he fiddles while the city was on fire but that he fiddles on the brink of hell...

...The war creates no absolutely new situation: it simply aggravates the permanent human

situation so that we can no longer ignore it. Human life has always been lived on the edge of a precipice. Human culture has always had to exist under the shadow of something infinitely more important than itself. If men had postponed the search for knowledge and beauty until they were secure the search would never have begun. We are mistaken when we compare war with "normal life". Life has never been normal. Even those periods which we think most tranquil, like the nineteenth century, turn out, on closer inspection, to be full of cries, alarms, difficulties, emergencies. Plausible reasons have never been lacking for putting off all merely

cultural activities until some imminent danger has been averted or some crying injustice put right. But humanity long ago chose to neglect those plausible reasons. They wanted knowledge and beauty now, and would not wait for the suitable moment that never come.

The realization has dawned on me that I have been lulled into a false sense of "normalcy" and if ever that rug got pulled out from underneath my feet it would be starting from March of 2020. Nothing has been the same, and nothing ever will be. My children are entering a new era as we live and breathe and observe this historic age in which we find ourselves. But do I live now with that sense of urgency to proclaim Christ, disciple my children and love my family (both spiritual and physical) well?

Obviously, I am not able to physically help with boots on the ground efforts in Eastern Europe, but I am able to offer up prayers and strive on the behalf of others. "The effective, fervent prayer of a righteous man avails much"- James 5:16b. I am told to pray and then peace will naturally guard my heart and mind {from the inevitable overwhelm that is my heart and is this world}. And Lastly: Be joyful in hope, patient in affliction, faithful in prayer. -Romans 12:12

So, if you're anything like me, feeling weary, heartsick, or brokenhearted let us then turn from this present world's darkness and seek Divine beauty as we carry on with our roles and responsibilities wherever we are. Let's cook the meals, wash the clothes, hug your babies, read the Bible, and say our prayers.