In the wake of destruction, what will you create?
In the wake of the Oxford High School shooting in Michigan yesterday that killed three students and injured eight, the losses were starting to trickle in while I was building a snowball family with my boys. The tragedy struck a little over 20 miles from where I grew up. My niece’s soccer friends. A friend’s youth group. Our church families downstate. What do you do when things like this happen and you must be present to a 3 and 5 year old in the snow?
As I started rolling snow balls, stacking them into a snow family, I drew the boys near and told them what happened. Isaiah, my oldest said, “Oh no! That’s awful!”
“It is, buddy.” I said. We paused and prayed for the families and friends who lost loved ones.
Winston said, “Maybe when Jesus goes to the people they all will be alive!” I love his faith and enthusiasm.
I said, “You think Jesus can make these people come back to life? Yes, let’s pray that he does that.” And so we did. Ok - first he shoved snow in his mouth, and then we prayed.
But then we continued on with our snow family. And we went inside and made silly play dough people.
“How do you lament while making snow families and silly play dough people?” I wondered. But as I crawled behind a giant snowball through the snow, I thought, “maybe this is lament. Maybe I can turn these snow balls into prayers.”
Lament is a creative act - it is a way of expressing our grief to God, even if our medium is snow and play dough. For a practical resource on what lament is and how to write your own lament, I made this lament guide for you:
In lament, we grieve the ways darkness has wreaked havoc on our world - on our vulnerable children, on our schools, on our community, on our hearts even as we roll the ache around into the snow. Our grief moves through us and out our hands into what we shape with it.
And that begs the question: what will we shape with our grief?
Will we continue in the wake of destruction by numbing its impact, running from it, or fighting it? Will we fuel more destruction with our anger, bitterness, and control? Or will we do the hard work of slowing down to bring God the raw materials of our confusion, pain, and fear and allow him to make something new through it - even if it looks like play dough at first?
When we choose to be present with one another even as we hold grief in our hearts, we can allow God to shine His light into the darkness of our despair. And as he does, He creates something new.
As we were sculpting noses into snow faces and squishing red play dough into a plastic noodle press, I kept thinking - we’ve got to build a better world. We’ve got to teach our children to build a better world. But maybe it starts with snow families and play dough.
Maybe if these children can find joy in putting green hair and abnormally large mouths on frumpy potato bodies, they can learn to behold the beauty in the hair and mouths and bodies that may seen foreign or frumpy to them.
Over time, as we bring the misshapen mounds of our longings together, God will turn it into what Martin Luther King called, the beloved community. “A community in which everyone is cared for, absent of poverty, hunger, and hate.”
As we roll up our sleeves and kneel alongside one another in the snow with our snow pants sinking four inches deep, we can create this community together.
We can sculpt beauty from the frigid wastelands of violence.
We can squish hatred into healing.
We can assemble hope from the fragments of our despair.
We can build towards the new creation God is forming, even if all our efforts look like snow families and play dough compared to the masterpieces God creates.
But even while our efforts to shape a new world may be small, I love that God chooses to join us in the creative process anyway. He kneels down into the snow with us and adds his own personal touches. He infuses our work with love. He cheers us on when we create something out of a desire to make beauty. He beams like a proud Father when we form our pain into compassion for our neighbors. And he allows us the undeserved honor of letting us participate with him in the new creation he is making - the beloved community. And that kind of creation doesn’t melt like snow, but endures for eternity.
So, my friend. As you experience the wake of chaos and darkness of our world, I wonder - what will you create? I can’t wait to see what He will form through your lament.
Please continue to be in prayer with me for the Oxford community - for the injured who are still in need of healing, for those grieving their loved ones, and for Jesus to comfort and heal those impacted by this trauma.
An Invitation to the Infinitum Christmas Challenge
In this season of Advent, we have the opportunity to turn towards the light of Christ who shines in the darkness. If you resources to center yourself on Jesus during this time, I invite you to Danielle Strickland and myself for the Infinitum Christmas challenge - a journey of prayer, spiritual practices, Scripture, and community. Next week, we will be hosting a virtual prayer day December 8th 10am-1pm EST. Join us by signing up below!
