Life and Death

This week has been an interesting juxtaposition of life and death. I'm not sure whether to tell the life or the death stories first, and even if I tried to decide I probably wouldn't be able to define which stories deal with life and which ones with death. . . .

My young adult small group has decided to study The Passion of the Christ. I immersed myself in the Holy Week Scriptures and tried to understand why Jesus died. That was Monday and Tuesday morning. Then, our church received a phone call from someone needing counseling. Our lead pastor is out of town for Annual Conference, so the phone call was diverted to me. If you know me well, counseling isn't really my bag. I set up a meeting anyway--so glad I did. The guy was a tourist from Ohio who realized he was having faith issues. It turns out that he had never surrendered his life to Christ, so after 30 minutes of conversation, he decided he was ready. He accepted Christ! He is saved through Christ's sacrifice! Life from death! I told my small group that night, and they were excited. By the end of our meeting, though, our hearts were heavy again as we realized the reason Christ died for us: It was God's will all along that God Himself would have to provide the blood sacrifice for our sin. Why did he go through a gruesome death? For me . . . for you. Sobering . . . .

Yesterday was hard. I wrote a lesson about Stephen, the Christian martyr. I mourned with the persecuted church as I searched for images to help my youth understand Christian persecution. Then, everywhere I turned things seemed to fall apart. I watched a friendship splinter. I realized some of my own faults. I tried to help several international students with transportation and job issues, but we resolved nothing. Then the kicker -- I got an e-mail from the seminary saying that David Gichuru (a student from Kenya) had passed away. I frantically searched the prayer list for details. On vacation in California, he jumped into the ocean to save one of his children who was being tossed by the waves. He drowned. The child is alive. My heart is heavy at the loss of such an amazing man of God. I only knew David a little from being in a class discussion group with him, yet he taught me the importance of holding on to your cultural heritage. He and other African brothers taught me that poverty does not mean lack of joy in the Lord. He will leave a legacy of sacrificial love with his children, yet he will be greatly missed.

I don't know what to think or feel after a week like this. Oswald Chambers asked in my devotion, "Am I abiding? Am I taking time to abide?" (My Utmost for His Highest, June 7). He's saying life's not as much about what you think or feel but whom you are with. Abiding -- that's where we find life. Him in me, I in Him.