Life is fragile, this we know well.
But we far too easily forget.
We are rocked from our comfortable little worlds when headlines bleed with news of faithful soldiers and innocent civilians lost amidst the whirlwind of war, precious little lives snuffed out at the hands of those entrusted to protect and provide for them, hundreds upon thousands of people wiped out by the catastrophic effects of natural disaster.
We ache.
Reality slowly sinks in as the weight of our hearts within our chests becomes almost too much to bear, and we are forced to soberly look inward.
Desperately, to look upward.
Tears come. We wonder. Why. How. We pray. And question what we truly believe about life. And death.
We look across at our precious loved ones, our very breath snatched from our lungs for just a moment at the thought of losing one of them, and we realize anew the fleeting vapor that is this life.
And we thank God for the gift of their lives mingled with our own, brief as it may be in the grand scheme of eternity.
{breathe in. breath out.}
The brevity of life catches me off guard all too often.
Like today.
Just after 2:00am this morning we got word that one of the Troopers from my husband’s post – and one of the fine men that first trained my hubby – had just been killed in a car accident, while pursuing another vehicle.
Husband, daddy, son, brother, trooper, friend.
Gone. Just like that.
Today our hearts are aching.
Freshly aware of how evanescent this flesh-and-bones world truly is.
And yet, acutely aware of how important choosing to love others where they’re at, every chance we get, truly is.
It is true what they say, that you may be the only Jesus some people ever meet, the only bible some people ever read.
Sharing the life nestled within us with a hurting world makes all the difference.
As my husband and I talked this morning over breakfast, his gratitude for the connection he had made with this man was evident. Through tears he whispered, “Jeff’s heart had softened…he had really begun to open up to me more…and had just expressed an interest in finding a church”.
You see, He woos us, this magnificent Creator of life itself, drawing our hearts back to His through every delight and crisis we encounter, lovingly holding every moment of our lives in the palm of his hand before even one of them comes to pass.
As we work through this tragic loss, and process those things unknown, we rest in the sovereignty of a God who is so extravagantly in love with His creation that He pursues their souls to their very last breath.
And in that knowledge, take peace.
“May you have the power to understand, as all God’s people should, how wide, how long, how high, and how deep his love is. May you experience the love of Christ, though it is too great to understand fully” Ephesians 3:18-19a
