More oppressively than this sticky September heat.
I felt my lungs tighten and my heart seize.
And this wasn’t just because I crested the top of a minimal incline whilst running.
It started building as I drove through the south side of town.
Another world altogether from the hipster-dom where I currently reside.
It came to a head as I jogged past two twenty-somethings on a walk.
I started my usual game: who were they? how do they know one another? where are they going? what do they do?
And that’s when it hit me.
Building slowly, subconsciously, under stoplights on hot pavement.
Coming to a head wondering the life story of a red head and a blonde walking down the street.
Fear.
Overwhelming, balmy fear.
The wholy-crap-how-am-I-ever-going-to-do-this-? fear.
The “this” that feels so heavy, isn’t even related to the new job I will start tomorrow.
The this is all of it. Life.
What started building on my drive back from an airport drop-off was the realization of the state of things.
Reality in the city. This city.
Families. And lack thereof. Heartbreak. Brokenness. Abandonment. Abuse. Neglect. Pennilessness. Hardship. Strife. Turmoil.
The how-can-I-see-and-hear-and-experience-and-process-all-of-this-and-try-to-do-something-about-it-while-the-weight-of-the-reality-that-I-can’t-even-scratch-the-surface-sinks-in-and-not-go-completely-crazy panic.
Then this refrain plays in my head and hangs on my wall:
So we do not lose heart.
The darkness in the world is heavy. Heavier still is that which is amiss in my own back yard.
Therefore, having this ministry by the mercy of God, we do not lose heart.
So we do not lose heart.
[2 Corinthians 4:1,16]
It would be easier to not engage.
Easier to drive seventy on the highway and miss the humanity.
Easier to not ask questions about the lives of others. Their state of being.
Keeping your eyes closed reduces fear.
But we are not of those who shrink back.
We have this ministry by the mercy of God.
So we do not lose heart.
[Hebrews 10:39]
I quickened my pace and set my jaw while this song coursed through my veins.
Not because it’s full of truth or uplifting.
But because it’s aggressive. Because it drives.
Because it makes me grit my teeth, batten down the hatches, and get after it.
It’s an amping-up-for-white-water kind of jam.
But I think I’m going to need to listen to it to keep my edge here too.
On the sidewalks. In a concrete jungle. Facing the beauty and the chaos that a city engulfs you with.
So we do not lose heart...
