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There is a line in "The Wreck of the Edmund Fitzgerald" that goes like this: "Does anyone know where the love of God goes, when the waves turn the minutes to hours?"
It's an overarchingly soulful tale of loss of hope and loss of life. And one that you are likely familiar with on some level. Lightfoot doesn't try to answer that existential question - he instead reminds us that all that remains are the faces and names of the wives and the sons and the daughters. Memories are a precious little replacement for laughter, the feel of a hand in your own, or tears of joy. Of seeing success and struggles, and love and loss. But there is only so much loss we can hold in our hearts.
I've been thinking on this since the almost unbelievable events in Texas over the past 24 hours.
What if I were a parent on that ravaged and raw creekbank with a missing daughter? What if I were looking at debris hanging in trees and catching phrases from workers about the devastation? What would I do? What can be done? Where is the love of God? Why did my child deserve this? Why pour out the blessing just to rip it away in one wet Texas night?
We read Job in retrospection - like all of us in the Bible Belt. We use it as a construct for loss. To learn the lessons of loss. It's so easy to miss the message. And that is this: God reminds Job who he is - and Who He Is. I don't always see it. I for sure don't always understand it. I often don't like it. The question is: Do I trust Him, whatever happens? Because whatever will happen.
That's easy for me to say. I'm not standing in the Texas mud. Oh, that there were someone who could lay a hand on us both.
But God knows something about loss. And He knows all about Hope. Hope is the great, mighty enemy of loss. Loss is the deceiver that whispers despair into our eager ears. But Hope stands beside us, weeps with us, prays with us, pulls us up off the ground, and is there every step of the time that is given to us.
"We walk a while, we sit and rest - we lay it on the altar,
I won't pretend to know what's best - but what I have I offered.
And I pray for a vision and a way I cannot see
It's too heavy to carry and impossible to leave." ~ Sara Groves
The greatest that remains is indeed Love. Love is frightening in its strength and unpredictability. But Hope abides. It holds our useless hands and reminds us that tomorrow is a new day. That this is not the end. We will open our eyes wide - wider. Further up and further in.
This post was promoted to the Main Feed at the recommendation of Ricochet's members.
Discussion (5)
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I've said for a long time that the hardest/worst part about getting older is the accumulation of loss.
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"Hope is the great, mighty enemy of loss. It is the deceiver that whispers despair into our eager ears. But Hope stands beside us, weeps with us, prays with us, pulls us up off the ground,"
Wow - what a great statement! I would go so far as to say Hope stands between us and loss - and all the other enemies of Hope. Thank you for your thoughts and post. God bless Texas.
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A beautiful post. I think you speak for many of us.
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Beautiful post
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I told my wife on more than one occasion that there are two main branches of Christianity. One branch thinks of God as a loving God. Another branch thinks of God as believing that all human beings deserve to drown the way some people in Texas have drowned in the floods.
I don't think God controls the weather and that is why we have floods. We must all help each other recover from these floods. We should not say that these floods represent God's divine judgement against the sinful people of Texas.