Last week, on Leap Day to be exact, I awoke at 6 am like I always do. I put on my house shoes, and went to the kitchen to warm a bottle for Melody like I always do. I changed her diaper and said “Good Morning, would you like some breakfast?” like I always do. Then, like I always do, I turned on the computer so that I could stay connected with my “Far Away Friends.” But that morning, for my hometown of Harrisburg, Illinois, life was not like it always was.
Facebook updates generally consist of a quote of the day, a little sarcasm, what’s for dinner, or what stupid thing someone said or did. Not this day. This day was not like always. Instead of the quotes and sarcasm, I read of my Far Away Friends in the midst of a tragedy, a disaster. A tornado bringing 180 mph winds swept through Harrisburg at about 5:00 am, when most residents were still asleep in their beds. After looking at the photos a hundred times, I still can’t help but cry and mourn for the loss so many have suffered. Six people lost their lives, and many more were injured or lost everything they own within a matter of seconds. And now their lives are not like they always were.
I went to work the next day and was approached by a co-worker. I could tell by the expression on her face that she was sad, or mad, or perhaps both. She explained that she had just discovered that her husband has been addicted to prescription pain killers after having back surgery over a year ago. He’s now trying to quit “cold turkey,” and is going through severe withdrawal. In this moment, their marriage isn’t like it always was.
Then last night I received a phone call from one of my dearest and oldest friends. She explained that she had just undergone an emergency surgery because she’d experienced an ectopic pregnancy. She knew that in such circumstances, the baby could not be saved. What she didn’t expect was that complications would arise, she would lose one fallopian tube, and that doctors can’t yet tell her if the other tube is functional. Her life is not the same as it always has been.
I lay awake last night thinking of the tragedy and strife so many experience. I don’t understand why people experience such horrific things. It doesn’t seem fair to me. Then, I roll over in bed and look at my daughter, sleeping five feet away from me. According to the doctors, she’s not supposed to be here, alive, sleeping in her swing. And I sometimes feel guilty that I’m here, living life like I always do, in my warm house, with a wonderful husband, with my baby that was miraculously healed of so many defects. Sometimes the fact that my life is so good seems just as unfair as those who have experienced all the bad things. And I don’t know what I’ve done to deserve such favor.
But here’s what I do know. There’s One Thing that will be the same, like always. That One Thing’s name is Jesus. He’s the same as always; yesterday, today, and forever. If we invite Him to do so, he will always be with us, wherever we go, whatever we walk through. Always. I don’t understand it, but I know it’s true. And I resigned myself long ago that this is just how most things are going to work in my Christian faith: I won’t understand, but I have to believe. That holds true today. Even though I don’t understand the reason behind all the tragedy that we experience, I do understand that God is kind, and good, and fair. I must trust Him to be like He always is, to do what He always does. Because He has everything under control, just like always.
