Thread by @ShannonDingle

Old me would have gone to church today, figuring the odds are still probably more in our favor than not and trusting God to protect us.

(A few of us are high risk for serious complications if we got the coronavirus, and it’s in our county.)

...but then Lee died from an accident against all odds, and God didn’t protect us from Lee’s death.

So my trust in odds or that God will spare our family from another major life-changing or -ending tragedy doesn’t hold anymore.

I believe God.
I believe God loves me & our family.
I believe God grieves with us.

I used to think I understood God. Now I don’t. And? I think maybe that’s the point. If faith is evidence of things unseen, then understanding isn’t required.

I believe God is full of mysteries.

As I sat next to his bed as my husband was dying and as I walked the hospital halls before they could formally declare brain death, my brain echoed

inhale (neither life for death)

exhale (nor anything in all creation)

inhale (can separate us from)

exhale (the love of God)

I didn’t force the words. I didn’t intentionally call them to mind.

But as my husband died, my truncated version of Romans 8:38-39 followed the rhythm of my breath, my steps, the machines keeping him alive, the beeping whenever meds ran out.

That mattered more than protection.

Nothing in my life has linked God to safety. I’ve rarely been safe.

But love is a magic stronger than safety.

I want both. I always will.

But being loved will always be more beautiful (albeit more vulnerable too) than being safe could ever offer.

(Don’t get me wrong, though.

I muttered “fuck whoever chose this song” when my church’s worship team sang that one that repeats God is good.

I won’t sing a damn thing about my only desire being God’s glory because most days I’d prefer having Lee back more than anything God has.

But God’s love makes space for that.

God’s love makes the beautiful community at @SE_RaleighTable one in which I can lean on the faith of others when mine is fragile.

God’s love sits beside us while we grieve and refuse to sing.

God’s love is, & nothing can separate us.)