We Need That Light

The light shines in the darkness,
and the darkness did not, will not, overcome it. John 1:5. adapted

I came home to a flooded basement this afternoon. I knew the floor drain was having issues. Last week, I went down there about 15 minutes after drained my bath and found a brown puddle. Yuck. This morning I'd finally Googled possible issues and solutions, and determined that I needed rent a power snake to deal with the problem. I'm glad I didn't rent one today. The pond surrounding the drain would have deterred me from using any electrical devices in the vicinity. Apparently I hadn't made sure the toilet shut off this morning, and water had been running since then. The waste of water is bad enough when everything’s functioning well. For a compromised drain, the situation's worse.

The water's gone down quite a bit already; by morning, it may be only damp downstairs but this did throw a monkey wrench into my plans for the evening. On the way home, I’d picked up an outside corner tool and was going to finish drywalling the bathroom. As it is, I watched some TV episodes I’d downloaded onto my tablet. Oh, and weeded a bit after the rain

I remember in the movie Forrest Gump, in one of its nods to cultural phenomena, it dealt with “Sh*t happens.” It seems lately that it's been happening more often than usual. Sewage in the basement, possible asbestos-containing kitchen flooring that I can’t decide what to do with, a handyman that keeps so busy with his prior jobs that he only occasionally makes time to work here, shards of glass that shows up mysteriously in the middle of the living room floor.

Yet none of this is of any significance when compared to the hatred, racism, and white supremacy displayed in Charlotteviille last week. Or our nation’s chief executive blustering with South Korea in what seems to be a bid for war.

What are we to do?

For some years, I played the ostrich, burying my head in the sand. Though there’re still plenty of people doing this, at ease with there ignorance, this no longer works for me. But, again, what to do? I wish I had an answer.

My hope rests in God, yet I have no expectation that God's going to help us out of the messes we’ve made. A god who would interfere with international politics is also a god that might arbitrary decide which ones survive the mudslide or bus crash, which people deserve to find easy parking spaces so they’ll be on time to their meetings. This is not a god I recognize.

God is the one we turned too, run to, flee to, when stuff happens. God is the one that gives us strength and courage to face our own and other people’s messes. God is the one we can cry with, complain to, scream at when we can't bear what faces us.

Right now maybe you feel like screaming. Or running away and never coming back. So, open that conversation. Tell God how fed up you are. Or scared or spent ir angry or uncertain. When you're done, when you've given voice to every bit of the moment’s emotional load, linger a while. Rest in the company of the creator of all that is. Let yourself rest in that presence. Accept that it's not all on you.

Then, when morning comes, a bit refreshed, face the world. Shake your fist at the powers that be. Stand tall. Declare that you, that we, are not defeated. Then, pick one thing you can do to help fill the hole in the world and start shoveling. And trust that you won’t be alone.