Years ago, on my second trip to Malawi, I was alone at a remote guesthouse when I learned that my grandma has collapsed in a garden and might not live. For a brief moment, I resented my distance and yearned to be back home where I could feign a degree of control. Yet, that's all it would be--feigning control. I quickly found comfort in my distance, accepting that God was teaching me through geography what I should be always learning anyway--my complete dependence upon Him.
In recent days, amid a constantly moving and changing schedule, I have counseled a number of soldiers on family issues. For various reasons, as might be expected, some of these soldiers' families are having a very difficult time. The hardest part of these ordeals is that my soldiers have control over very little of whatever afflicts their families. This helplessness gives way to anguish and anger, but it also provides an opportunity: To entrust one's loved ones to the all-powerful hand of the Almighty. Even if not rendered helpless as in the present situation, this is ultimately our hope--that an infinitely more loving and powerful God can exert a level of care that we cannot possibly match. And we must first entrust ourselves to that gracious hand.
In that vein, my friends, I ask for your prayers. I readily acknowledge my helplessness, but helplessness has a logical resting place--before the throne of grace in prayer. My helplessness drives me to my Father, and my faith in Christ gives me confidence as I approach His throne, knowing that I am washed in the blood of Jesus and dressed in His righteousness. That said, my helplessness has not recently found that resting place. I fall into bed late each night, quickly fall asleep, and sleep in until the last possible moment in the morning. My marginal moments at the beginning and end of the day are restless transitions into and out of sleep. Pray that from the sun's rising to its setting, I would find my resting place in Christ through prayer.
