Ouch

Ensued

This past week has brought so much. I watched last Tuesday night as rain fell softly on top of fresh snow drenching tree branches and drenching power lines. The rain froze to ice that night, ripping the branches down into the already overloaded lines. It was the worst black out since, well, six months ago, when the remnants of Hurricane Ike battered my city with wind, ripping tree branches down into power lines. Many neighborhoods in Louisville feature beautiful houses alongside beautiful trees. Six hundred thousand were left in the dark and cold.

I was blessed in that my apartment didn't lose power, save a quick brown out. The biggest impact to my life came in the transformation of my last week of work for Boyce. Rather than spend those last few days finishing up tasks around the office, I got to watch the new leadership structure rise to the occasion and help the student body in what is surely the greatest disaster Louisville has faced since the tornados of the 1970s. I am glad leave things in their hands and have been reassured that things will be just fine without me. Different, sure, but that's okay.

Nevertheless, all this transition has definitely left me with much to reflect on. Sadly, I've found myself "listening to myself" rather than "talking to myself," to use Lloyd-Jones analogy. In other words, there is what I feel and there is what is real. Reality is defined by Christ and his testimony in Scripture. Christ tells me that he is my shepherd, that he will provide for me, that the righteous are not forsaken and that their children do not have to beg bread. This is not to say that God does not ordain hardship, even protracted hardship. This is to say that in all things, all things really do work together for good. As we were going through Romans together at Sojourn, one of our pastors, Rob Plummer, preached a ballin' sermon on Romans 8:28-30. He pointed out how Paul speaks of these justified Christians as being (already) sanctified and glorified. In other words, from God's eternal perspective, these things which seem so frustratingly out of reach are as good as done and as certain as gravity.

Indeed, much has ensued in these past days. Tomorrow, Lord willing, I will move into Shelby Park and will continue the beginning of this new chapter in my life. Even as this city has suffered in the cold, I have found my heart suffering in the cold, refusing the warmth, shelter, and power of God's Word. Yesterday, as Pastor Chad preached to us the story of Joseph, I was warmed by the thought that faith is a fight. I was warmed further by the typological truth he outlined: Just as Joseph was sent to Egypt to save Israel, so Christ was sent that we might be saved. And just as Joseph's brothers bowed the knee to him, so the world will bow the knee to Christ.