Death is a tragic event. There’s just no other words for it. We can put all the nice things around it about how God works through death and that it’s a pause in the conversation between Earth and Heaven, but at some point, during the process, the reality of death feels cruel and unfair.

Today, I write as I felt the loss of a very good friend. Her battle with ovarian cancer was long and hard. We joked many times about cancer and there were many times we both cried over the cards we were allowed to be dealt by God. But in the end, our humor would return and we’d make a snide comment about how this was the devil’s world and no way were we stepping down and letting him have this victory when God had bigger plans for our cancer. Even in remembering those conversations though, death stings. The finality of knowing people won’t be there when you wake up and that you are forced to wake up each day and keep going is frustrating and – well – cruel. It can make all of us questions Gods plans for the world.

Then, I struggle with the reality of the floods happening on the Guadalupe River in Texas right now and the many girls still missing from Camp Mystic. It’s easy to get angry at cabin placement, warning systems, or even why girls that young were so close to a river, but the reality is, this was a freak occurrence. My heart breaks in a million pieces for the mamas and daddies who not only are missing their children, but are questioning themselves on sending their kids to camp and even those who survived, if they will ever do it again. My heart hurts for the children. For their friends. The ones who witnessed people being washed downstream. The children who watched their friends being taken by raging waters. My heart hurts for parents who are replaying what their children must have felt in that moment. The fear and panic of rushing water and entire trees coming at them and nowhere to go.

But, it is in that moment that I pray that God was merciful and took their souls before they realized what was happening. For the children that are being found alive, I pray that God has protected them and heals them in the future to use this story as a way to showcase His ultimate power of redemption. I pray that parents who lost their children – and for those that may never get a body – to have faith in God and to know that He knew exactly what to do. That HE was there in those moments and that HE will be there in the end.

I don’t even know where to turn my attention. It seems everywhere I look, something is broken. Wars in countries, floods, cancer. Israel is shooting missiles everywhere – everyone is shooting missiles at it. America is arrogant in her power. We are being washed away with floods. People are making ridiculous decisions and then the Lord is using others to bring HIS MESSAGE to the world.

The message today in church was “How dare we keep the Gospel to ourselves?” The Lord is bringing people to our doorstep and yet we gate-keep the BEST NEWS by refusing to share it with others because we are scared, anxious, and nervous. Of what? Rejection? Being told not to talk about Jesus? What stops you from praying, friend?

My son and I are getting on a trip to Hungary and I am terrified. I am terrified I won’t have the answers, that I won’t know the Bible well enough, that I won’t have a good flight, that something will happen – and I’ve let FEAR dictate that response. But, as my sweet friend who just went home to Jesus would say, “Suck it up, buttercup.”

Life is rough. Dying is easy. Leaving behind the living is easy for those that depart – if you are Christian. If you are not, dying is the beginning of your hell and I pray you chose right. We serve a merciful and forgiving God. But, we serve a JUST and HOLY God, too.

Look at all that is happening around the world. Open your eyes to the things God is showing you. I pray that you see what He is trying to tell you.