The Bravest Person I Know

It was only few days ago that I tossed out a reflection centering on Psalms 37 and 73.

As is my wont, I kept regurgitating it in my thoughts even after it was written and done.

Within 24 hours I knew I had left something out.

The hardest part.

It's bad enough when there are bad guys. The problem of wicked men. I had focused on this for the most part while pondering these two Psalms.

But I knew within a day that I'd left the hardest, cruelest cut out of the picture.

The problem when there is no bad guy to blame.

Sickness. Natural disasters. When things just go wrong for no particular reason. The wrong turn that puts a vulnerable car in front of a speeding 18-wheeler.

This didn't sit well with me, and I thought perhaps it would be worth revisiting the matter. But I wasn't in a hurry. Why would I be?

That was Tuesday.

Last night, Friday night, just three days later, I got a call at around 9PM. The night's winding down. Who's calling now?

Just the bravest woman in my world.

Joan, I'll call her.

Apologizing. Apologetic. So sorry. So sad to intrude. So hesitant to ruin my evening with the uninvited bombshell news that her brain tumor had returned. Would I be interested to meet with her and a few friends on Saturday morning, seeing as she was going under the knife again on Wednesday?

We both knew the reality. This might be the best chance we'll ever have to chat again freely and easily. I told her there was no way I'd miss it.

Thus it was that I met an old friend again today. The bravest woman in my world.

You would think that we had gathered for her birthday. You would think we had gathered to celebrate.

During our long phone call the night prior, she could have been mistaken for a counselor checking in on a patient. How was my wife? How are our children? How have we been? She wanted to know that we were all well.

Now we were with our dear Joan in person. And she was more of the same. Full of smiles. Reflecting love. Caring. Facing a timeline not of her choosing.

"We all know of righteous souls whose lives were cut short, ending in heart-wrenching tragedy."

I wrote those words on Tuesday. Was it just four days ago? Four days? And here before me, in living color, is a righteous and good woman facing a personal tragedy whose dimensions I cannot begin to empathize with. I don't have a clue what she's feeling. A woman who has the right to ask God a few questions.

Psalm 37: (excerpted)
Take delight in the Lord,
   and he will give you the desires of your heart.
The blameless spend their days under the Lord’s care,
   and their inheritance will endure for ever.
In times of disaster they will not wither;
   in days of famine they will enjoy plenty.
Turn from evil and do good;
   then you will dwell in the land forever.
For the Lord loves the just
   and will not forsake his faithful ones.
The righteous will inherit the land
   and dwell in it for ever.

Joan has a right to ask God what exactly He meant by those promises. I don't yet, but Joan does. Now.

And yet Joan seems to have chosen a different route. She's focusing on being thankful for what she does have. Focusing on the continuing love she has for those around her.

It's not like Joan doesn't have a care in the world. Not at all the case that she's not lost in the confusion of why she must walk through this valley. She does wonder. She is worried. She is troubled. But she's still the bravest soul I know. In the midst of it all, she trusts God to sort it out in the end.

That's pretty much what David and Asaph (authors of Psalms 37 and 73, respectively) were saying too. Does it seem like some of their assurances are not holding true for Joan? Like she's not exactly getting the package David and Asaph seemed to be promising? Who can argue otherwise.

And yet. And yet. Joan is practicing what they preached.

And she has a joy that is not to be found in the faces of those who have no hope. Not to be found in the faces of those who trust in science alone to deliver the answers to the big questions.

Scientists like to point out that at the center of every galaxy is a huge black hole. And they're probably right.

But Joan knows that at the center of the universe is Jesus Christ.

Therein lies the difference.

Does she have all the answers? No.

But Joan knows the secret. And the secret is this: Keep your eyes on God, no matter what.

She's the bravest person I know.

Hebrews 12:1b-2a
And let us run with perseverance the race marked out for us, fixing our eyes on Jesus, the pioneer and perfecter of faith.