When He speaks through a child: reflections on tragedy, courage and dependence on God

This has been a difficult week. It has also been a full week in which many us were called on to care for and comfort others, plan for services and times of prayer, and to offer other areas of support in light of so much pain and grief. While I find myself talking to God a lot in these types of situations, I can easily forget to listen to what He says back to me.  But God, who knows me inside and out, knows that I rarely fail to listen to a child.  I find in the moments when I can get too wrapped up in what I'm doing FOR God, when I forget to listen TO God, He inevitably speaks through the children in my life.  He does know how to get my attention :)

On Tuesday I attended the memorial service of a much beloved faculty member at Seattle Pacific University who died of a sudden illness. 48 hours later, a gunman killed one student and injured two others on that same campus.  The SPU community and all those that love that community are heartbroken.

On Sunday, our services were dedicated to lamenting, praying and worshiping with and for the SPU community. Quest, our church, is just a mile from SPU.  We have many students, faculty, staff, alums and others who have a relationship with that campus that attend our church, including members of our staff and lay leadership.  It was a time of grieving, acknowledging our pain, crying out to God and proclaiming our hope in Him.  Our youth group kids usually go to their own class during our 11am service. However, their leaders felt they should stay in the service, both for their own grieving and healing (many of them have their own connections to SPU), and for them to see how we, as the Body of Christ, are called to mourn with and comfort those who are grieving.  Both our boys are very empathetic and tend to be sensitive to the emotions of those around them. While this is a beautiful gift, it can also be overwhelming is this setting, especially for children and teens. We told our boys that if it became too intense for them, they could go downstairs to help with our Toddlers and Preschoolers (they are both youth volunteers with these ages).  About halfway through the service, it was too much for our 12 year old and he headed downstairs to hang out with "his kids" (he is his mother's child :) ).  On the way he handed me a note he had written during the service and asked me to "give it to SPU" (I have sent it on with an SPU professor). He also gave me permission to read and share it.

In case you can't read his writing, this is what it say:
"Dear SPU,
During this time of sadness, fear, anger, and darkness, do not let them overcome you. During these times of grief we ask, "Why God?", but don't give up hope! God is with you even when it doesn't feel like He is. Many are praying for you. Be strong and courages (sic) for the Lord God is with you. That's from the Bible somewere(sic). Remember we are praying for you.

From 6th Grader
A Christensen"

Needless to say, I teared up. However, even more so, I was struck by God's powerful reminder that I and many others needed.  The verse that my son mentions is Joshua 1:9
"Have I not told you?
Be strong and courageous.
Do not be terrified;
do not be discouraged,
for the Lord your God will be with you wherever you go"

At the end of the service, we asked those who needed prayer to come to the front where pastors, staff and lay leaders would pray with them.  As I prayed with people, I found myself praying this passage over and over for us.  If ever we needed strength and courage, it is now. If we ever needed to fight back against terror and discouragement, it is now.  I often think of this passage in reverse:
Because the Lord our God is with us wherever we go,
We do not need to give in to discouragement and terror
But rather He makes us strong and courageous.

Amen.

Yet another reminder came via FB. This morning, I woke up to this post on my wall from the father of one of 5 year olds:

"While laying in A's bed tonight as I tried to help her fall asleep, she starts to talk about the 'man who hurt the people' at SPU. This leads to a conversation about her thoughts and fears, and I catch myself (with the best intentions) telling her that she has nothing to fear since mommy and daddy will protect her. I pause, realizing how empty this statement truly is, and shift the conversation to the following:

Me: You know who will always protect you, will always watch out for you, and will never fail you?
A: Who?
Me: I'll give you a hint: we talk about this person all the time at church!
A: Oh... God!

At this point, I'm feeling pretty positive and successful in giving reassurance AND truth to my 5 year old. Then, she stumps me...

A: So, do you know who looks out for God?
Me: Uhhh, well... God looks out for himself...
A: Nope, but I'll give you a hint: we talk about this person all the time in church!
Me: Ummm, Jesus?
A: NO silly, Teacher PAM!!!!

No pressure, but apparently you're now responsible for God's safety and security ;) "

I laughed so hard that tears came to my eyes.  It gave a number of our mutual friends a chuckle, too.  And the Lord knew we all needed it! 
We laugh because of the sweetness of a child's trust and the innocence of their understanding.  We smile and think, "Out of the mouths of babes." We laugh because as adults we know that, of course, reality is the total opposite.

But it only took me a few minutes before it became clear that once again, God was reminding me of His truth through the words of a child.  He was not telling me that I was his bodyguard.  No, He reminded me that it's quite the opposite, even when I may convince myself that it's not.   Now I'm fairly certain that I've never said to myself that I need to watch out for God's safety :) But how many times either directly or indirectly have I said to Him, "I can do it myself",  "I'll let you know if I need you", "Here what I need and here's how You should do it", or even "Get out of the way and let me do it my way!"  But isn't that basically the same thing as saying I'm in charge of God?  It really is silly and childish, but is far from the childlike faith we are called to.

As I rest on this my Sabbath day, it's easy to convince myself that I'm fine, I've got this, I know how to grieve this tragedy that has happened to a community that I love. Maybe I'm not saying that specifically, but it's the route our hearts often want to take: I'm independent, I'm capable, I'm steady, when the reality is that we are anything but.  I'm not fine, I don't have this and I don't know how to grieve this violation: of a building where I spent 75% of my time as a student, of faculty and staff that were my colleagues in my first staff position at SPU in that same building, of friends who I used to work with all over campus and those who are alums, to this student body, many of whom I have had the privilege of working with and walking alongside as volunteers at Quest. I do need God's courage. I need His strong arms. I need His sheltering wings.

As a church we are reading through the Psalms together, one each day all summer. Today's is Psalm 22. This is my prayer for today as we all grieve, cling to the hope that is ours and begin the long road to healing:

"But you, O Lord, be not far off;
O my Strength, come quickly to help me." vs. 19

Amen and Amen.