If my skull cracks in two today because my brain has exploded from within, don’t be surprised.
If you walk into my living room or back yard and find an actual gray mass of throbbing neurons sitting just outside the boundaries of my head bones, just call 911 and my husband. One of them will scoop me back up and glue me together like Humpty Dumpty.
Wait, things didn’t turn out well for the egg-guy, did they? Never mind.
Dear reader, my brain is fried.
If you’ve been paying any attention to the news and/or you’re parenting children, your brain is probably also about to explode.
I’m terribly worried about the entire population of Nepal. When I think of the parents sleeping outside in the cold with their children because they’re afraid of the earthquake aftershocks, my eyes go cobwebby and I feel a little faint. What would I do with my own children in that situation? When I realize help is on the way but they’re dealing with many miles of rugged terrain in a poverty-stricken country, I have to lie down for a minute out of sheer helplessness. I could clear out my bank account and not make a dent in the real problem. Neither can I go there to help– I’d just be in the way.
Nepal isn’t the only spot with trouble. Ethiopian Christians are getting walked along the beach and then executed. They and countless other Christians are being persecuted in a way I’ve never even known was possible, here in my quiet little country town, where Christians outnumber goats by a 3:1 ratio. (You thought I was going to say heathens instead of goats, didn’t you? It’s surprisingly hard to track an actual number of heathens, while goats are an easily counted population in this neighborhood.)
Speaking of closer to home, we Christians are having some trouble on several fronts. While I cannot overstate my compassion towards those who struggle with same-sex attractions, I also can’t rewrite the Word of God to my feelings or whims. I wonder what I would do if I owned a bakery and a same-sex couple asked me to bake them a wedding cake. The compassionate part of me would run to the kitchen and start creaming the butter. The other part of me would be screaming, “Coward, coward!” into my own ear as I remember Paul’s words to Titus about rebellious, unfit church folk: “They claim to know God, but by their actions they deny him. They are detestable, disobedient and unfit for doing anything good” (Titus 1:16).
I wonder if Jesus would stand alongside of me and bake the cake or if he’d be standing on a chair next to the cash register, taking advantage of a little teaching moment while he gave a Sermon on the Bakery Counter.
As if the entire world’s problems aren’t enough, we have friends and family who worried, anxious, and unsettled. Because we love them, we struggle with them.
And also, I don’t know what I’m going to make for dinner again tonight. Not that it will matter if my brain explodes here in a few minutes. Eat whatever you want, kids! Mom’s out cold.
In all these things, I have only one effective weapon: prayer. I can pray for Nepal, I can pray for our brothers and sisters in Christ everywhere, and I can pray the Holy Spirit moves in our hearts to unite us in all situations, so that God may be glorified. And I can pray Jesus returns for us quickly.
Come, Lord Jesus. Come.