There are those days when the forces of this world, over which we have no control, pound us silly and drown out our source of light, or even knock it flat and all goes dark. In Faith, the Light remains, even it as it is a struggle to believe such truth survives the bitter darkness.
Last week, I’ve seen the struggles persist – the sad eyes of a child whose cruel surroundings curls him up in ball on a library floor in hope for someone’s safety. The lonely resident of memory care who waves over a smiling face hoping we will break her silence with a warm heart. A friend who has to say goodbye to what was once called love and is now called abuse. The cruelty of child pornographers who slyly execute a slithering attack on supposedly innocent book sites in pursuit of your child, every child. A car accident who injures a loving, dedicated employee and takes her away from those who need her, desperately, for too long. And more…
While I would like to claim I can make my heart go cold to do the work that must be done, I have not been successful in building walls of stone around the pain. Perhaps I could be like all those popular pastoral instragrammers who post flowers and praise, beaches and belief to convince us that we are surrounded, always, in warmth and love. But Faith is a tougher business than that. Not that I think I will sink into mud to never arise. But it’s more realistic to say that life, when lived courageously, can be a lonely, embattled business. And sometimes we have to shovel our way back into the light.
Today, after yet another snowstorm, our world here is buried in the cold walls of snow. And I have to go advil my weary back and throw some snow over my head to reach the top of the snow bank. Like I said, some days it’s tough work to clear a path and bring the Light to others. But we are called to stay in the fight. And helping kids see their powerful call, no matter their circumstance, is why I wrote The Tukor’s Journey.