In Him We Live, Move, and Have Our Being -- The Necessity of Sabbath -- #4

At 11:00 this morning my wife attended a funeral for Nicole.  

Nicole's brother Joe was in my youth group.  Joe was a sweet kid. Just addicted to bad choices.   His mom, Annette, would look at me with pain-ridden bewildered eyes  cuz  her son, in many ways like her ex husband, was, sadly, despite knowing so much about Jesus, choosing a path of rebellion and self-destruction.

Joe was candid with me about his choices.  He’d say, man, I kind want to do the right thing. I know I should.  I just like the rush (the prodigal son rush) of doing bad stuff.

Now, 20 plus years later, in his 30’s, Joe is homeless. A meth addict.  Feeling, I imagine,  in so many ways – spiritually, physically, emotionally – the consequences of choosing a prodigal lifestyle.  

So, Nicole is Joe’s little sister.  She torpedoed her own life in many of the same ways as Joe.  As part of Lodi’s homeless she and her boyfriend succumbed to smoke inhalation from a fire that was set inside an RV they had commandeered during the recent storms.   When we heard about how she died the feedback was it may have been an accident but more likely, based on what she’d recently said, it was suicide.  

Adding to Annette’s sorrow was that she just hours before this news had buried her father.  So Sarah, who through friends, still has some connection with Annette was on her way this morning to attend what’s been a tragic, heart wrenching devastating story about brokenness and loss for Annette. 

Just before attending this funeral today, Sarah dropped off coffee for a friend.  Our friend’s daughter is one of Karis' good buddies and so too (as you’d expect) their family has become friends of ours as well.  

Our friend’s daughter  has ridden in my car, been to our house, attended church with us. 

Well, this sweet Christian middle schooler out of the blue, almost like lightning, was struck with -- for me at least (and also for this Christian family) – an unbelievably severe, almost psychotic mental health crisis.  

So as Sarah is getting ready to head to this excruciatingly tragic funeral, she's standing outside of our friends’ house.  Great awesome Christian family.  Her friend was supposed to meet Sarah for coffee.  But couldn’t.  Because her daughter was having an episode.  

Sarah, as she stood in their driveway consoling Karis' friend's mom, could hear the cries of this recently radiant, sweet Godly 12 year old. Wailing through the walls and closed doors of the house. Cries of terror. Cries of hopelessness. Cries of misery. Abandonment. Despair.   

The family’s younger child has digestive issues.  They started when this out of blue mental health crisis started in the kid’s older sister.  

Again – as sweet and inspiring of a Christian family I know and their life is right now a  vicious, non-stop 24/7 hopeless, confusing, the-experts-are-strategizing-as-quickly-as-possible-what-to-do-next -brutal trial.  

So with that.... Sarah left for the funeral......

Given the  biographical events that presented themselves to Sarah and me this morning I latched on to the following statements from the sermon today ……

Jahweh has won a victory over brokenness. 
Rejoice over the greater salvation over death, evil, and sin. 
God has won the victory over everything that threatens to undo us. 

So glad that whatever happens on any given day -- "in Him we live, move and have our being" and "the light shines in the darkness and the darkness has not overcome it."