Days ago I wrote words to you that were cute and clever in an attempt to bring you around to a sense of calm in the storm. Somehow it did not set well with the stream of sadness flowing through my spirit. So I trashed it.

And then trashed the trash so it was truly gone.

It’s a tumultuous time. I am sad.

Friends, so many huge statements have been thrown around here in the United States of America since last week. It’s what we do in crisis as a natural reaction. We resolve. We declare. We plant our feet and say, “No more.” 

None of that is necessarily bad. Maybe though, we would do well to pause, never losing our high and holy thoughts, but measuring our words. These people, these “others” whom we stand up against, even though we do not view the world through their eyes, are watching us through theirs. Are we vicious? I’m afraid so. 

Our natural reaction must be tempered by supernatural guidance. God is sovereign. 

In His sovereignty, however, He does not call us to sit back and dramatically sigh declaring that, “He will work His will in our troubles.” No. That excuses us from engaging with the world, showing the world a better way, giving them a taste of that which is appealing, not repulsive. 

Secondly, I stand firmly upon the notion that He guides us to quietness and forethought before reacting — pretty difficult when our fingers are on the triggers of our iPhones and we are so immediately interconnected that search engines know our thoughts before we speak them. 

Do it anyway. 

Slow down.

Take a breath.

My dad, always able to interject an appropriate random quote from who-knows-where, would surely add here: “Hold ‘er, Newt! She’s headed for the alfalfa!”

That’s about it. Just wanted to encourage you a bit. Even though all is obviously not well in our country or world at this point, it most certainly will be. Ultimately. We don’t know what that looks like. We trust God. We engage (sanely) with people. We quiet ourselves when necessary. We regroup and do it again the next day. Confidently.

I’m a big fan of Isaiah. This major Old Testament prophet delivered many a difficult, scathing message to the people of Israel and Judah. But he did not stop there. He spoke regularly and accurately of the coming Messiah, comforting ancient generations who would never see the face of Jesus on earth. He knew, as inspired by God, when to bring it around to what is possible when sinful behaviors are abandoned.

A passage from Isaiah 30 that has come to mind regularly this week is titled “Woe to the Obstinate Nation.” Appropo? Methinks yes. If you read the entire chapter (mine is from the NIV Study Bible), you’ll find Isaiah interjects hope among the flames — “when” the Lord binds up the bruises” not if.

“This is what the Sovereign Lord, the Holy One of Israel, says: “In repentance and rest is your salvation, in quietness and trust [confidence] is your strength, but you would have none of it. You said, ‘No, we will flee on horses.’ Therefore you will flee! You said, ‘We will ride off on swift horses.’ Therefore your pursuers will be swift! A thousand will flee at the threat of one; at the threat of five you will all flee away, till you are left like a flagstaff on a mountaintop, like a banner on a hill.” Yet the Lord longs to be gracious to you; therefore he will rise up to show you compassion. For the Lord is a God of justice. Blessed are all who wait for him!”

‭‭Isaiah‬ ‭30‬:‭15‬-‭18‬ ‭NIV‬‬

Here’s a super oldie. I was just going to call it a regular oldie but I think we’re past that. Weird. Keith Green was important in my spiritual formation back in the day, and in his own way as a breakthrough musician, he was a Christian apologist just as Charlie Kirk was in this century. Keith died with two of his children in a plane crash not long after he recorded this song on his album, “No Compromise.” His legacy lasted, however, in a day when worldwide communication was practically nothing compared to today. Charlie’s message will live on. Take heart, dear ones. Listen.

I do pray for you, you know. Many of you reading these words I write are faceless — I don’t know you. In quietness and confidence, that does not stop me from praying that the God of the universe is now or will soon be very real in your life. May you be rooted and established in love. May you grasp how wide and long and high and deep is the love of Christ. And may you be filled to the measure of all the fullness of God (see Ephesians 3).

Much love,

MM