He's been there

Today my children are snoozing away under their warm quilted blankets. Adden is breathing so peacefully beside me, drinking milk in his dream, and Selah’s mouth is wide open with tons of drool hanging out. (She is a gorgeous sleeper like her mama.) I have been given the world in my family, our home, such freedom, a cup of Starbucks, and my Jesus. I so want to hold onto this moment of quiet joy and peace forever. I don’t want my kids to grow up and be plagued with the drunk driving homicide, the stories of human trafficking, and the coverage of the most recent abduction. These stories chill me to the bone and I hate that we have to raise innocence in depravity. If I let my fear get the best of me, I may never leave our house again.

In Psalm 69:2, David cries, ”My eyes fail, looking for my God.” If we are all honest with ourselves, I think we would also ask, “Where is He, anyway?” I want to know where He is when the little girl is crying herself to sleep at night. I want to know where He is when a mother has nothing left to feed her children. I want to know where Jesus is in the midst of the war, the AIDS crisis, the genocide. I can’t pretend that these realities don’t exist or that they will never reach my doorstep. And I can’t spend my life looking the other way or shielding my kids’ eyes from the brokenness.

I wish I could wrap these questions up with gorgeous bows of explanation, but all I can say is simple. When I’ve needed Him, He’s been there. He has been my reason to get out of bed every morning. He has been my peace living next to the DMZ. He has been my joy when the world ceases to satisfy. As I’ve listened to stories of friends who have lived through so much more than me, I hear the ache in their voices as they recall the pain, but I also hear over and over again that He was there. I so love hearing of how He was there. Please, please, keep telling your stories. You guys give me courage that I can't muster on my own.

I know that we have this breath right now for such a time as this. And despite my fears, questions, and doubts, I want to give my children the gift of a mom who holds onto Jesus with all that she has. I want them to know that in this world, there is pain, but there is a God who heals. And I want more than anything to be on the frontlines of that healing and introduce people to the God who has always been there - whether it be for the 80 year old widow, my own son or daughter, the 12 year old who has lost her mom to cancer, or the guys at the homeless shelter. God, show me where you need me to be today. Show us all where you need us to be.