Restoration versus Devastation: The Game Is On

The effects of coffee had long worn off as I visited with my friend Wednesday night. Curled up against a tall sofa back, I smiled when she asked, "Don't you think the bad is out there fighting against the good?"

"Ye-e-es," I agreed with drawn-out southern charm. "That's a spiritual principle for sure."

I used to quote it with my kids every morning:

"For our struggle is not against flesh and blood, but against the rulers, against the authorities"... against the Darth Vaders of this world... (Ephesians 6: 12).

After trying to make sense of her stress and mine, I thought back to last Sunday, when it became all the more real that devastation tugs at the helm of restoration and we are caught in the middle of the war.

I posted a church photo on Facebook last Sunday. Overjoyed, I couldn't contain my excitement as I sat in a pew facing the massive organ renovation project.

For the organ that once played in Trinity Chapel on Wall Street will soon make music again in John's Creek United Methodist Church. Damaged in the notorious 9/11 attack, the organ was silenced and placed into storage. But when member's of the John's Creek church family heard about the magnificent instrument, they purposed to refurbish the pipes and move the instrument south.

It's taken years. Many years. A new sanctuary had to be built first.
But as of this summer and fall, the installation is underway.

So when I slipped into a pew on the 15th anniversary of the World Trade Center bombings, I savored the power of restoration.

Orchestra members soon took their seats. The choir processed in. Congregants stood for the first hymn and the service got under way.

Drooling over the vast musical offerings, I sat unprepared, like everyone else, for what was to come.

About fifty minutes into the service, the pastor stood to preach. But instead of commanding the pulpit with ease, she said what I've never heard a pastor say before, "Please forgive me, but I can't preach today."

Say what?? On the 15th anniversary of 9/11??

"There's been a tragedy in our church body," she continued. "We lost a precious member this morning."

As she searched for words of encouragement, I discerned that a beloved someone committed suicide that very morning. Later I learned the pastoral staff had only been informed after the service began.

Devastation crashed over restoration, flooding our hope with despair.

After an awkward few moments, the congregants were asked to rise for the benediction, and the service ended. The abrupt conclusion punctuated the unwanted interruption and I fought to feel wonder again. The kind where the good guys win, the music resounds, and all is right with the world.

But guess what?

It's. Not. About. Me.

There's a big story being lived out, walked out, and diligently fought over. And every day we have an opportunity to join the side of restoration or to be part of the devastation.

It truly is a daily choice.

But not an easy one.

I've been swallowing prednisone for a week now and for the first time in six months, my right foot doesn't hurt at the end of the day. In fact, my right leg feels strong now that the post-surgery pain has subsided. While I'm aware the steroids may have something to do with the change, I'm still profoundly grateful for the lack of pain.

At the same time, my face pulls left. Not all the time, but enough to leave me feeling a bit tired from the pressure at days end.

Restoration.
Devastation.

They collide again.

The tug of war is in constant play. In my life and yours. I want to bask in the realm where all is restored. To float its peaceful, curative tides. But they are often interrupted.

So I'm becoming all the more intentional in my pursuit to stay faithful in the tight place of struggle. For...

"Our citizenship is in heaven. And we eagerly await a Savior from there, the Lord Jesus Christ, who, by the power that enables him to bring everything under his control, will transform our lowly bodies so that they will be like his glorious body" (Phillipians 3: 20 -21 NIV).

And as I wait for my lowly body to be transformed, I made a short a short video clip so you could see what's going on with my mouth. It seemed easier to make it plain rather than leave friends worried.

And if you're interested in diving deeper into why we suffer, I'll link to the sermon that was preached at my home church this past Sunday. By Monday morning, three sweet friends had texted, encouraging me to take a listen.

Having missed out on a sermon the day before, I indulged, and it was well worth the time.

The text is Romans 5: 1 -11.