In the past two weeks, I’ve read two stories of tragic loss & suffering – one in my own city, and one a world away – and I’ve all but shut them out of my mind just to preserve my sanity.
I’m not proud to admit this.
Just READING about the suffering in the world threatens to take. me. out. It rocks me to the core. Because, how? How can such loss and heartbreak and destruction – and the evil and depravity that often inflicts it – exist in the world? How can God possibly allow it and how can anyone possibly survive this?
And I feel empty. I feel as though I am not enough, I am not up for this – even though my “this” is simply READING a blog post about incomprehensible atrocities or a news report about a local family’s unimaginable loss. I cannot even endure a blog post without crumbling!? I become paralyzed, feeling empty and helpless. My footing gets shaky and my hope gets shifty.
Empty.
Helpless.
Disarmed by my discouragement, I put my hands in my pockets and look the other way, convinced I don’t have what it takes to even READ about suffering, let alone DO anything to help.
But that’s a LIE. A lie I can’t afford to believe anymore. A lie sent to steal and kill and destroy me and the good I’m here to do.
I AM NOT EMPTY.
AND I AM NOT HELPLESS.
“God is within her, she will not fall; God will help her at break of day.” Psalm 46:5
God is within me. And God is with me. So when I feel my footing shake, my hope shift — I must turn my eyes to Him. He who is steady and unshakeable. And from that steady, unshakeable place, reach out my trembling hands to help.
All the Little Pieces 