embracing our nothingness

When my child was in serious danger, I blamed myself.

“I didn’t keep him safe”, I cried, through a text to a friend.

“That was the one thing the pediatrician stressed at every well baby visit...safety. She would write it at the bottom of the report, circle it, and place it in my hands. “Your top priority is to keep him safe”, she’d say. And I didn’t. I didn’t keep him safe.”

Then, my friend’s first response came in.

“The devil is messing with you.”

Then, her second response:

“Psalm 4:9. In peace I shall both lie down and sleep. For you alone, Lord, make me secure.”

Then, her final text…the mic drop:

“No one can keep us safe, but the Lord.”

And here we are, at the tail end of the craziest Lent ever, entering into Holy week, THE WEEK OF ALL WEEKS....and dare I make the assumption that most of us? Most of us are not feeling so safe. Most of us, I am willing to bet, are feeling uneasy, insecure, and highly vulnerable. Threatened by the worry of “what if” and “how long”, the joy of today has been hijacked by the fear of tomorrow. And this, my friends, does not feel so safe.

For those of us who thrive on planning, controlling, and always knowing what comes next, our present circumstance can feel like a cruel joke. Unlike the Psalmist who is “Threatened but Trusting” (Psalm 3) our faith begins a slow shredding, as we take the beating of the loss after loss of so many good plans; plans we counted on, events we expected to happen, paychecks we will never receive but already spent. Our trusting has been traded in for grieving, as we learn that the one thing we have been waiting all year long for, is not ever going to happen.

Be careful, sweet sisters, if this is where you are at. It is okay to grieve. It is okay to feel sorrow. But pay attention. If your grief leads you into fear and your uncertainty into doubt, you could be standing on the frontline without any armor. And this is exactly what the enemy delights in. He banks heavily on our ungodly self reliance, and the false security of our own plans. He knows that our greatest fear is the unknown, and that when stripped down to our nothingness, our tendency is not to turn to the Father, but to return back into ourselves; grasping for more information, more news, more statistics, more toilet paper….lured into the lie that beyond washing our hands and saying our prayers, we can actually keep ourselves safe.

If Psalm 3:9 is true, and our “safety comes from the Lord”, could it be that this Lent, this Holy week, the Lord is calling us to return to Him, once and for all? What if God plans to use this unpredictable pandemic that threatens to infect and destroy, as a means of protection and blessing? Perhaps this is the invitation we have been ignoring for years; to give up our man made strongholds, and return to the Lord. To quit placing our confidence in what is perishable, and return to the Lord. To stop relying on our strength, and return to the Lord. To stop playing the Savior, and return to the Lord. To let go of our self reliance, and return to the Lord. To give up our disordered passions, and return to the Lord. To stop turning to lesser gods, and return to the Lord.

Suddenly, that cup of coffee or glass of wine we gave up for Lent is looking like a rookie sacrifice, huh? Because it feels as if we have been stripped of everything, my friends. And I get it. I understand. And I do not make light of the death and devastation of so much life. But what if we could step out of the fear for a brief moment, embrace our nothingness, and reflect on the Passion of Christ? Right now, can we stand before a stripped down Jesus in our own nakedness, and simply be with Him in His suffering? Can we walk alongside of Him with our crosses, as He carries His own? Can we, in confidence, accompany his Mother Mary, our Mother Mary, who never tried to keep her Son from the Father’s will; who remained calm and stood at the foot of the cross while the baby she gave life to, took his last breath, all because she knew that true security can only be found in the center of God’s will?

We can do this, my friends. In the face of the unknown, we can remain at peace. In the midst of the fear, we can feel safe. While our circumstances are uncertain, we proclaim the certainty of the cross. We will not be in isolation forever. This will end. If you need proof of His protection, then please, turn off your televisions and look at the cross. Death could not hold Jesus there. He rose. Because of His deep and personal love for us, we have been promised security, safety, rest and comfort for all of eternity! And this is a safe plan we can count on.

The threats of today have got nothing on the promises of the Lord. Of that, I am certain. In that, I am unafraid.

“God indeed is my savior, I am confident and unafraid. My strength and my courage is the Lord, and He has been my savior.” Isaiah 12:2