Life has been good lately, really good. I’ve been soaring on a mountaintop plateau that I was praying would last much longer. Yesterday, I took a nosedive off of the highest cliff.
It began early Sunday morning as a handful of officers walked into the chief’s office to receive the dreaded news…they’d lost their jobs. A few hours before, one of the youngest of the men had dropped off a Snickers bar for me in dispatch. My girlfriend sent an emergency all-points bulletin for any available officer to help her friend (me) quiet her sweet-tooth. One of the youngest on the force sheepishly came in and dropped the sugary, chocolate sacrifice on my desk, hoping to appease a cranky dispatcher.
Miraculously, it worked.
It was so difficult to watch this same young officer walk in and meet with the police chief to hear he had lost his job. Police chief’s don’t usually work on weekends, and if they are at work before 7am on a Sunday morning, it’s never good. As I drove home after my shift, I couldn’t stop thinking about seven young men who would be going home to meet their wives with the news.
A few hours later, our family walked into church. The regular happy morning greetings were now tight lipped nods with eyes cast down. As we walked into the sanctuary it was so quiet and somber. You could feel the heaviness during worship. “When did our church become such a depressing, un-friendly place?” I wondered to myself.
Minutes later I got my answer.
One of the men of our church had been killed in a car accident only hours before. An elder in our church body, he had led our college group and youth groups. A dear husband and father of three young children, gone just like that.
The tears flowed freely now. Our church family held onto one another as we grieved together.
Worship through tears is a very powerful thing.
Please pray for the Rouse family.
“Nevertheless I am continually with thee.” –Psalm 73:23
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