Hope

 He came down the aisle carrying the tiny white casket himself. There was a tender, gentle strength in how he brought it to the front and set it down unable to just let go and leave it right away. That was his son, and yet not. He knew full well his son was truly alive with the Father. I think that’s what enabled him to step back, and take his seat. He had hope.

What unfolded was a beautiful, gut wrenching, worshipful service to honor a life that never got to live outside the womb, and to honor a Savior who makes it possible for all of us to live joyfully someday beyond this shattered world and these broken bodies.  

I watched them walk in. I stared at that tiny white casket.  I watched them exit. All the while I sat there, the memories and feelings flooded back. Only instead of being the one up front, I was now part of the mass thinking if we could have done absolutely anything to have spared this family the pain of going home without their baby, we would have done it. Anything.  

Unfortunately, life doesn’t work that way. We don’t get to undo the tragedies of this life. There are tiny, white caskets and caskets of all sizes. There are funerals, and there are types of deaths that don’t even get a funeral to help a person move forward. There are people living in ongoing trauma and pain, and there are people trying to figure out how to take the next breath and live the next moment after tragedy or in endless hardship. This is one big, broken globe we live on. 

As I sat there looking at that tiny casket, weighed down by the grief in the air, seeing the reel of memories scroll through my mind, and with feelings from long ago rushing at me, I listened to the words being sung. In the midst of the gut wrenching awful - beautiful words, 

“Lord I come, I confess

Bowing here, I find my rest
Without You, I fall apart
You're the one that guides my heart

Lord, I need You, oh, I need You
Every hour, I need You
My one defense, my righteousness
Oh God, how I need You” 

The thought that came to me as I listened was that the problem isn’t that a good God has allowed all this darkness, pain, loss, tragedy, and heartache. The problem is at the foundation of the world we chose sin instead of God, and as a result, this world is broken. However, God could have just turned His back, but He didn’t.

 He entered in. He gave us hope.

He made a way, through Jesus, to rescue us from all the gut wrenching awful of this world. Tragedy and trauma do not have to be the end of the story. God isn’t evil. Sin brought the brokenness and evil. God provided a way to be rescued and hope to hold onto when all else falls away. 

The reality is, no matter what has brought us to the end of ourselves. No matter what tragedy, trauma, loss, or ongoing pain we live with, Jesus and the healing only He can bring are the answer and what every single one of us needs. There is no hope outside of Him. We need Him. There is pain and loneliness this side of eternity, and pain and permanent separation from God on the other side of eternity. However, when we place our faith in Jesus as the only one who can save us from our sin, repent of our sin, and choose to allow Him to be the Lord of our lives, we are promised in God’s Word (the Bible) that we are made His child. We are promised we will never walk a dark day on this earth all alone again. We are promised there is an eternity of joy waiting for us. We still face loss, heartache, tragedy, and more - but never for nothing and never alone. 

I have no doubt I will have to see other tiny white caskets in my lifetime, and caskets of other sizes. I will come alongside friends facing deaths that don’t get funerals, and I will walk through brokenness again myself. However, I will face every one of those days with hope because of my relationship with Jesus Christ. You can too. Hope is available to all of us because Jesus came for all of us.