A Different Kind of Thanksgiving

Several years ago we had Gary Witherall of Operation Mobilization come to OGC and share his testimony of loss in the martyrdom of his wife in Beirut, Lebanon back in 2002. I received this from him earlier last week as a testimony of how the Lord may grace us to be sorrowful yet always rejoicing (2 Cor. 6:10). I offer it as an encouragement to those whose Thanksgiving weekend knows that paradoxical blend of gratitude and grief.

I am sitting at a Starbucks on Hamra Street in West Beirut. A famous little road full of little shops, honking cars, and people making business, sitting, watching, sipping coffee and checking cell phones. It’s a little unknown area of the world. It’s a wonderful place, yet only the bad stuff makes the news, bombing, killing, rocket attacks, or some militant group showing force. It was on this piece of land that I first came in January 2001, and my life would never be the same again. On November 21st 2002 in Sidon, Bonnie’s life was brutally taken by an unknown gunman.

A few weeks ago I went with Bonnie’s parents to the grave. The first time I have returned to a place that has caused me torment. I stood there with her mother and father, quietly, in the cold looking at the ground where her body was laid. I thought for the first time, ‘ok Lord, I’m ok with this.’

When I think about you now reading this, in the deepest place of my soul, I can say, ‘Thou art worthy.’

Is it safe to follow Jesus. The answer is no. Denying self, carrying a cross, laying down your life. No, it’s not safe, that is the daily reality for many who carry the name of Christian. But we have been called to go, to declare the hope of salvation in Jesus. And I stand confident in this. So I ask believers everywhere to join me in prayer, to give and perhaps even go to these nations that are grieving from conflict, suffering and hatred. And may His Kingdom come.

Hebrews 6:19 “We have this hope as an anchor for the soul, firm and secure.”

Thank you for investing in us, and for His Kingdom, Gary Witherall

Beirut, Lebanon
November 19th 2012

The Antidote for Abandonment

Since 2005 and my bout with tongue cancer, two months out of every year tend to make me more reflective on my life than the remaining ten. They are March and this month, August.

March, because of the surgery on my tongue to remove the cancerous tumor threatening my life and the removal of all the lymph nodes from the right side of my neck (affectionately referred to as a radical neck dissection). Lovely. You can read my most recent musing about that event and time here.

Now I find myself in another August seven years removed from finishing treatment which followed that surgery. It consisted of no less than thirty-eight radiation treatments to the tongue and neck along with four separate infusions of two kinds of chemo, the last of which occurred as a continuous infusion over four LONG days 24/7 in August of 2005. For a description of that particularly nasty napalm-like drug click here.

I just finished reading several entries from my journal in August of ’05. Suffice it to say it wasn’t pretty. Not pretty at all. It almost pained me to read my relentless postings of nausea, vomiting, mucous, gagging, metallic taste, sleeplessness, fatigue, scabbing, gagging, peeling, etc., day in and day out. The cumulative effect took its toll. On September 6, 2005 I wrote:

I know I’m not, but I felt abandoned last night. I kept praying as I turned off the lights, “Please, don’t abandon me God.” It wasn’t a good day. I was more tired than usual. Slept till 1 PM. I did some reading while watching football and then just gave in to the TV. Felt nauseous much of the day. Threw up around dinner time. Tongue is still sore. Mouth is still sore. Cheeks are swollen. Lower lip is still scabbing. It just goes on forever. Mucous still forming. What a routine of drudgery. When will relief come? Lord, have mercy. I am rebuked by Bonhoeffer’s final letter to his wife. He never felt abandoned [in prison] for all the support he had. I feel ashamed.

I’ve said it before. I’ll say it again. In seasons of such overwhelming agony where one wonders if ever the end will come and the temptation to believe that God indeed has abandoned you to your difficulty overwhelms, one and only one antidote suffices.

Pray for mercy.

Over and over again I prayed the same prayer. Lord, have mercy on me, a sinner.

We must take our cue from the psalmist in Psalm 42:1-3a.

With my voice I cry out to the LORD;
with my voice I plead for mercy to the LORD.
I pour out my complaint before him;
I tell my trouble before him.
When my spirit faints within me,
you know my way!
Do you feel abandoned in your particular struggle or trial?
Take it from one who wondered if the suffering would ever end but today got to preach somewhere around his 250th sermon post-tongue cancer. He knows your way. Cry out to Him. Plead for His mercy. Pour out your complaint. Tell him your trouble. And never, never, never, cease to do so until you break through or He takes you home.
We have never done all we can do until we have prayed and prayed and prayed. Never give up. Pour out your heart before Him. Plead for mercy.
Mercy there is great and grace is free.
Lord, you never abandoned me through my year-long battle with tongue cancer. I am so very, very grateful. Help me to redeem that time for the sake 0f those wondering if you have abandoned them and may they employ the same antidote as I did even if the trial goes on and on – the simple prayer, Lord, have mercy on me, a sinner.

Dealing With Death and Disease

The good folks at Ligonier Ministries have hit the ball out of the park once again with this month’s edition of Tabletalk Magazine focused on death and disease.

How I wish I had a copy during my head and neck cancer journey back in ’05. The articles within touch on so many redemptive themes that encourage the disabled, the suffering, and those experiencing the heartache of loss that comes with the last enemy.

And, true to form, my connection at the magazine has come through by making available to me several complimentary copies to distribute this Sunday at OGC. If you or somebody you know now walks through the valley of the shadow in some way, shape, or form, I highly encourage you to come see me this Sunday for a copy.

Here is a sample of the content from an extremely penetrating interview with Joni Eareckson Tada as she talks about various Scriptures that have sustained her over the years in her hard providence of quadriplegia:

Another anchor is Deuteronomy 31:6, where God tells me, “Be strong and courageous. Do not be afraid or terrified [of quadriplegia, chronic pain, or cancer], for the Lord your God goes with you; he will never leave you nor forsake you” (NIV). I’m convinced a believer can endure any amount of suffering as long as he’s convinced that God is with him in it. And we have the Man of Sorrows, the most God-forsaken man who ever lived, so that, in turn, He might say to us, “I will never leave you; I will never forsake you.” God wrote the book on suffering and He called it Jesus. This means God understands. He knows. He’s with me. My diving accident really was an answer to that prayer to be drawn closer to Him.

While I hope you enjoy these freebies, beyond that I hope it will propel some of you to become regular subscribers to Tabletalk even as I am. It anchors my daily quiet time with the Lord and that sweet place has profited all the more ever since I took a subscription.

To subscribe click here.

Angel Work

This quarter’s edition of The Free Grace Broadcaster focuses on Comfort in Affliction.

I have taken much of value away from the articles within, especially a sermon by Charles Spurgeon called Cheer Up, My Dear Friends.

In it he addressed those discouraged that they could do nothing due to being laid aside by sickness or some other hard providence. I pass it on for its encouragement, especially with respect to the high work of refreshing God’s saints.

The refreshing of God’s saints is one of the highest works in which anyone can be occupied. God will send prophets to his servants at times when they need to be rebuked; if he wants to comfort them he generally sends an angel to them, for that is angel’s work. Jesus Christ himself, we read, had angels sent to minister to him. When? Was it not in the garden of Gethsemane, when he was bowed down with sorrow? Comforting is not ordinary work: it is a kind of angelic work. “There appeared unto him an angel strengthening him.” A prophet was sent to warn the Israelites of their sin; but when a Gideon was to be encouraged to go and fight for his country, it was the angel of the Lord that came to him. So I gather that comforting work is angel’s work. You, dear kind Christian men and women, who think that you are not able to do anything but to condole or to console with cheery words some souls cast down and sore dismayed, you are fulfilling a most blessed office, and doing work which many ministers find it difficult to perform. I have known some who have never known suffering or ill-health, and when they try to comfort God’s weary people they are dreadfully awkward over it. They are like elephants picking up pins: they can do it, but it is with a wonderful effort. God’s tried people comfort each other con amore; they take to the work as a fish to water. They understand the art of speaking a word in season to him that is weary, and when this is the case they may not complain that they are doing nothing.

Paul certainly thought highly of this angelic work. In 2 Timothy 1:16-18 he praised one such angelic servant in these terms:

[16] May the Lord grant mercy to the household of Onesiphorus, for he often refreshed me and was not ashamed of my chains, [17] but when he arrived in Rome he searched for me earnestly and found me—[18] may the Lord grant him to find mercy from the Lord on that Day!—and you well know all the service he rendered at Ephesus.

Can you think of someone who might need refreshing through a kind word or note of encouragement. Why not undertake some angel work today?

The Way of the Devoted in the Throes of the Desperate

Nicholas Wolterstorff, in his little book Lament for a Son, writes of the loss of his twenty-something boy to a fatal mountain-climbing accident. He asks:

What do you say to someone who is suffering? Some people are gifted with words of wisdom. For such, one is profoundly grateful. There were many such for us. But not all are gifted in that way. Some blurted out strange, inept things. That’s OK too. Your words don’t have to be wise. The heart that speaks is heard more than the words spoken. And if you can’t think of anything at all to say, just say, “I can’t think of anything to say. But I want you to know that we are with you in your grief” (p. 34).

Were we to have accompanied David from Aphek to Ziklag in 1 Samuel 29-30, delivered from one trial only to encounter a fiercer one, perhaps no words would come in the face of such momentous grief. I can imagine David traveling the miles from Aphek thinking, how gracious of God to extricate me from having to go to war against my own people (see chapter 29)! But life is like this. Just when you think things can’t get worse, you suffer another staggering blow. David and his men return to Ziklag to discover nearly the worst – the city burnt to the ground and their families taken captive, destined, no doubt, for a future of slavery and abuse.

Their reaction is understandable in v. 4. Then David and the people who were with him raised their voices and wept until they had no more strength to weep. Even David mourned in grief, his wives taken by the marauding Amalekites. For him however, grief came in an even greater wave as v. 6 records. And David was greatly distressed, for the people spoke of stoning him, because all the people were bitter of soul, each for his sons and daughters.

On top of staggering loss for David comes devastating threat. His band of men pin the blame on him for the turn of events. Their bitterness of soul overflowed in making their leader the scapegoat for whatever reason. David can attest to the truth of Psalm 34:19 – Many are the afflictions of the righteous.

The good news in the midst of this horrifying text is that he can also testify to the truth of the remaining half of that verse. But the Lord delivers him out of them all. David models for us an important principle for responding to trials, even the worst of them.

In the throes of desperate circumstances the devoted intentionally make their way toward God in every respect.

And the first way to do that is to find your strength in God (1 Samuel 30: 1-6).

At the end of v. 6, Ziklag smoldering around him, family taken from him, embittered comrades preparing to stone him, what does the man do? But David strengthened himself in the Lord his God. He strengthened himself. The force of the Hebrew verb is reflexive. This is a choice he made. David takes an intentional direction. He moves toward God not from Him. He doesn’t blame God, he doesn’t rail on God, he doesn’t question God; he strengthens himself where? In the Lord his God (emphasis added). Yahweh is not just Israel’s covenant-keeping, faithful God; He is David’s God. This is David demonstrating the force of his words in Psalm 23:1 – The Lord is my shepherd; I shall not want (emphasis added).

David possesses composure and takes courage in a way no one else on the scene at Ziklag seems prepared to do. He finds strength in God. Perhaps he remembered a former day in the Wilderness of Ziph, on the run from Saul, where he found strength in God, but not of his own accord. First Samuel 23:15-16 records:

15David saw that Saul had come out to seek his life. David was in the wilderness of Ziph at Horesh. 16And Jonathan, Saul’s son, rose and went to David at Horesh, and strengthened his hand in God. 17And he said to him, “Do not fear, for the hand of Saul my father shall not find you. You shall be king over Israel, and I shall be next to you. Saul my father also knows this.”

In the throes of those desperate straits, God sent him Jonathan, his fiercely loyal, covenant-bound friend. He helped fortify David’s weary hands. He had the right words in the suffering. You shall be king over Israel. He reminded him of the promise and decree of Yahweh. But here in 1 Samuel 30 there is no Jonathan. Deeper currents of spiritual commitment now course through the veins of David as he draws nearer the throne. On this occasion, though all desert him, he will find his strength in God alone. He will preach to himself the promises of God that do not fail. He will live and breathe the words of Psalm 73:25-28.

25Whom have I in heaven but you?   And there is nothing on earth that I desire besides you. 26 My flesh and my heart may fail,   but God is the strength of my heart and my portion forever.  27For behold, those who are far from you shall perish;   you put an end to everyone who is unfaithful to you. 28But for me it is good to be near God;   I have made the Lord GOD my refuge, that I may tell of all your works.

Andrew Bonar, Free Church of Scotland pastor, did just this in the face of stunning loss.

[He] wrote in his diary for October 15, 1864, of his grievous “wound”; Isabella, his wife of seventeen years, died, apparently of complications following childbirth. He wrote that on the day of her death he had, according to his custom, been meditating on a Scripture text between dinner and tea. On that day it had been Nahum 1:7 – “The Lord is good, a stronghold in the day of trouble; he knows those who take refuge in him” (RSV). Bonar adds, “Little did I think how I would need it half an hour after (quoted in Dale Ralph Davis’ Looking on the Heart, p. 172).

Countless numbers of devoted saints through the centuries have turned to God in His word to find their strength in Him. They treasure His presence there. They calculate the certainty of His promises. They remember the virtues of His character. They come forth like Job in 13:15 – Though he slay me, I will hope in him. The way of the devoted in the throes of the desperate leads toward God in every respect. They find their strength in God.

Do you find yourself in the throes of desperate straits? Is there no Jonathan to strengthen your hand in God? Maybe the Lord would have you move toward Him in dependence upon Him alone for the strength only He can give.

A Theology of Horrible Things

Like the rest of you, I suspect, Nancy and I have remained glued to the TV the last twenty-four hours watching the horrific images coming out of Japan after the devastating earthquake hit yesterday afternoon. Not even one week’s vacation to rural NC will allow an entire escape from reality in our age of near instantaneous global communication.

In the interest of rest and ministering to Nan’s dear aging mother, I have kept blogging at arm’s length thus far. But catastrophic events like 8.9 magnitude earthquakes demand some kind of pastoral comment, particularly when one’s church hosts students from Japan at the same time their homeland gets rocked by creation groaning beneath the weight of the futility to which God has subjected it (see Romans passage below).

Rather than give my own take from the Scriptures for biblical perspective on the crisis and in the interest of preserving as much rest as we can summon from our week-long trip, I will turn to Dr. R. C. Sproul for his help. My mother-in-law happens to keep a copy of his book Now, That’s a Good Question! on one of her book shelves.

He answers the question Why does God let random shootings, fatal accidents, and other horrible things occur? this way:

Since we believe that God is the author of this planet and is sovereign over it, it’s inevitable that we ask where he is when these terrible things take place. I think the Bible answers that over and over again from different angles and in different ways. We find our first answer, of course, in the book of Genesis, in which we’re told of the fall of humanity. God’s immediate response to the transgression of the human race against his rule and authority was to curse the earth and human life. Death and suffering entered the world as a direct result of sin. We see the concrete manifestation of this in the realm of nature, where thorns become part of the garden and human life is now characterized by the sweat of the brow and the pain that attends even the birth of a baby. This illustrates the fact that the world in which we live is a place that is full of sorrows and tragedy. But we must never conclude that there’s a one-to-one correlation in this life between suffering and the guilt of the people on whom tragedies fall. If there were no sin in the world, there would be no suffering. There would be no fatal accidents, no random shootings. Because sin is present in the world, suffering is present in the world, but it doesn’t always work out that if you have five pounds of guilt, you’re going to get five pounds of suffering. That’s the perception that the book of Job labors to dispel, as does Jesus’ answer to the question about the man born blind ( John 9:1-11). On the other hand, the Bible makes it clear that God lets these things happen and in a certain sense ordains that they come to pass as part of the present situation that is under judgment. He has not removed death from this world. Whether it’s what we would consider an untimely death or a violent death, death is part of the nature of things. The only promise is that there will come a day when suffering will cease altogether. The disciples asked Jesus about similar instances—for example, the Galileans’ blood that was mingled with the sacrifices by Pilate or the eighteen people who were killed when a temple collapsed. The disciples asked how this could be. Jesus’ response was almost severe. He said, “Unless you repent, you will all likewise perish,” again bringing the question back to the fact that moral wickedness makes it feasible for God to allow these kinds of dreadful things to take place in a fallen world.

As we engage various people about the situation in Japan, let’s watch for opportunities to bring, with sensitivity, a biblical worldview to bear on the conversation when the Lord opens the door for the same.

People may not like the answer, but the Word of God does speak to a theology of horrible things meant to lead ultimately to another theology, the good news of the gospel of Jesus, who will deliver creation from its groaning by making all things new, including us (Romans 8:19-24).

An Annual Call to Remember

Tomorrow we will observe, as we always do, the International Day of Prayer for the persecuted church.

Scriptures like Hebrews 13:3 compel us to do so:

Remember those who are in prison, as though in prison with them, and those who are mistreated, since you also are in the body.

Open Doors estimates some 100 million of our brothers and sisters around the globe suffer mistreatment for their faith.

This year’s world watch list, which reports the worst nations in the world for persecuting Christians, has the following nations in the top ten positions in 2010:

1. North Korea (#1 for the eighth year in a row)
2. Iran
3. Saudi Arabia
4. Somalia
5. Maldives (collection of over two hundred islands South West of India’s tip)
6. Afghanistan
7. Yemen (the Arabian Peninsula)
8. Mauritania (West Africa)
9. Laos
10. Uzbekistan (central Asia, north of Afghanistan)

I plan to preach on Daniel 3:1-30. I have entitled the message Fearless Faith in the Fiery Furnace.

Rather than devote the 9:30 hour to prayer for the persecuted church this year, we felt the need to keep the momentum going in the Gospel in Life equipping class. Instead we decided to shift our regular 8:30 AM prayer time to the church property, albeit a meager way, but nonetheless an attempt to identify with so many who gather for prayer and worship in far, far less comfort and even danger than we do.

If you like, bring a blanket or folding chair with you. We will have resources from Voice of the Martyrs available to guide our praying.

Hope to see you on the property nice and early tomorrow morning.

There will be no prayer meeting at the SDA site at that time.

May God have mercy on our brothers and sisters in chains around the globe as we gather to remember, identify, and pray.

Biblical Resolutions Distilled from a Battle With Cancer Continued

Recently I introduced a new series of articles based upon my five year anniversary this August from finishing cancer treatment and remaining cancer-free.

When I first returned to the pulpit in November of 2005, I preached a series of three sermons from Psalm 116 entitled Seven Biblical Resolutions Distilled from a Battle with Cancer. You can listen to part one here.

I articulated this theme from the text in light of the apparent deliverance enjoyed by the psalmist from some recent life-and-death threat:

Deliverance by God from desperate straits warrants renewed resolves in a relationship with God.

In the last post I addressed the first and arguably most important resolve toward God when He comes through big time in our lives – resolved to delight in God (1a). Now for the second.

Resolved – to pray to God (1b-4).

One major reason for the expanded intensity of the psalmist’s love for God comes from his experience of answered prayer. I love the Lord because he has heard my voice and pleas for mercy. Because he inclined his ear to me. The Hebrew word for inclined means to stretch out. There is something here of the condescension of our glorious God who bends down from heaven and cups a hand to His ear in order to hear even our faintest of prayers to Him.

Never is that more appropriate than in a time of crisis. Look at vv. 3-4 – the snares of death encompassed me; the pangs of Sheol laid hold on me; I suffered distress and anguish. THEN, I called on the name of the Lord (emphasis added). And he gives us the very words of his prayer – O Lord, I pray, deliver my soul! Not a particularly long prayer. Not a particularly eloquent prayer. Certainly not a difficult prayer. But prayer enough for the dire circumstances. Deliver me.

I can’t tell you how many times I lay my head down on the pillow at night during the final months of treatment and simply prayed, O Lord, have mercy on me, a sinner. It’s all I could muster.

Why night after night should any of us pray? Because God has decreed and ordained that He will work in our lives through the means of answered prayer. As a result the writer makes his first overt resolve in v. 2 – Therefore I will call on him as long as I live.

Answers to prayer in the past and present should act as impetus for faithfulness in prayer in the future. God never changes. He is faithful to answer prayer. He hears and dispatches the angels of heaven to minister to our needs.

Just consider one verse from Phil. 1:19 to see Paul’s confidence in the efficacy of prayer to bring about deliverance: (writing from prison) For I know that through your prayers and the help of the Spirit of Jesus Christ this will turn out for my deliverance – speaking of his imprisonment in Rome. We need both, the prayers of God’s people and the help of the Spirit.

I shudder to think where I would be today without the steadfast intercession of saints all over the world who lifted me up to heaven during my battle with cancer – especially on the foremost of requests that I not sin against God with my lips. This is the great risk in desperate straits. We turn our backs on God. We take issue with Him. We find Him less than good because He ordains as v. 6 puts it that we be brought low. God is just as good in a biopsy that tests positive as He is in one that tests negative.

Don’t ever underestimate the role of prayer in dealing with a crisis of any magnitude. Pray yourself and solicit the prayers of others at every turn.

Vastly Different Perspectives on Sickness

While suffering recently through the most prolonged bout with the Epstein Barr virus I have experienced in years, I received two vastly different perspectives on sickness.

The first came from an old high school acquaintance. While I was ill she phoned me about our 40th high school reunion coming up in October. I explained that I couldn’t really talk with her because of my sickness. She asked, “What’s wrong.” “Long story,” I replied, hoping to evade going any deeper. Then she offered to pray for me. I gratefully accepted. Then she pressed. “Do you have the flu?” I think she asked. “No, I have a virus.” “What kind of virus?” I reluctantly explained, including some description of the debilitating fatigue that comes with the bug. Before launching into a very vigorous prayer, she added without the slightest trace of doubt, “God doesn’t want you sick.” You may well imagine what denominational tradition has shaped her theology of illness. I let it go.

Contrast that with the content of an email someone in OGC sent me. It’s a quote by J. C. Ryle.

Sickness helps to remind men of death. Most live as if they were never going to die. They follow business, or pleasure, or politics, or science, as if earth was their eternal home. They plan and scheme for the future, like the rich fool in the parable, as if they had a long lease of life, and were not, tenants at will. A heavy illness sometimes goes far to dispel these delusions. It awakens men from their day-dreams, and reminds them they have to die as well as to live. Now this I say emphatically is a mighty good (Practical Religion, “Sickness”, [Carlisle, PA: Banner of Truth, 1998], 360).

I rather think Job would have cast his vote for the second perspective given his reaction to trials that included boils on his body in Job 42:1-6. I suspect Paul would have done the same given his account of a divinely given thorn in the flesh (assuming it was some kind of physical malady, of course) that taught him the all-sufficiency of God’s grace for every extremity in 2 Cor. 12:1-10.

I’m certain my old high school friend meant well with her prayer ministry on my behalf. But I can’t help but believe along with Ryle that God pursues multiple redemptive purposes in our sicknesses and this emphatically is a mighty good.

Missing the Boat at SeaWorld

What are we to make of the tragedy at a local theme park this week?

A seasoned trainer of killer whales got dragged under water by her ponytale by a male Orca known for a history of living up to its name.

The debate in the news remains alarmingly this-worldly in terms of animal rights, conservation, ad nauseum.

As always, the Scripture speaks profoundly on an altogether different level.

In response to Job’s complaints in the face of unspeakable suffering far exceeding that of the family of Dawn Brancheau who dared tether Tilikum to her less-than-containable leash, the God of the universe said this:

“Can you draw out Leviathan with a fishhook
or press down his tongue with a cord?
2 Can you put a rope in his nose
or pierce his jaw with a hook?
3 Will he make many pleas to you?
Will he speak to you soft words?
4 Will he make a covenant with you
to take him for your servant forever?
5 Will you play with him as with a bird,
or will you put him on a leash for your girls?
6 Will traders bargain over him?
Will they divide him up among the merchants?
7 Can you fill his skin with harpoons
or his head with fishing spears?
8 Lay your hands on him;
remember the battle—you will not do it again!
9  Behold, the hope of a man is false;
he is laid low even at the sight of him.
10 No one is so fierce that he dares to stir him up.
Who then is he who can stand before me?
11 Who has first given to me, that I should repay him?
Whatever is under the whole heaven is mine.

Leviathan is the English translator’s best guess for a difficult-to-translate Hebrew word often rendered as a large sea animal. Orcas fit the bill. They are among the hugest of the dolphin species weighing up to six tons and measuring up to the length of a school bus. Males are particularly large and aggressive. Tilikum serves the SeaWorld community for his stud services and large-splash-making capabilities  – a crowd favorite indeed.

Until this week when he took a 40 year old handler so very easily to her watery grave.

If you seek to see the world through heavenly-minded eyes, the lesson seems plain. Who dares to trifle with a killer whale? No one is so fierce that he dares to stir him up. Ms. Brancheau, I am certain, dared not in the slightest to stir up the mighty beast floating in the pool before her. Even so, her proximity to creation’s majesty cost her nothing less than her very life. Word to the wise.

Word to the wiser still. Who then is he/she who can stand before God? Let the question sink in. Who then is he/she who can stand before God? None. I say it again, none. If dear Dawn (and my heart goes out to her grieving family and friends) could not stand poolside by Leviathan and escape with her life, who among us can pretend to put God, who owns the whole of heaven, including Orcas, great white sharks, lumbering hippos, and the rest of His wondrous and fearsome creation, in the dock and claim some legitimate argument with His sovereign administrations in their life for which we might better respond, He gives and takes away; blessed be the name of the Lord (Job 1:21).

May we not miss the boat along with the masses debating the pros and cons of killer whales consigned to captivity as if the only things we should consider lie along an animal rights plane and no other. Far more can and should result from this tragedy than that. Let nature and its grandeur speak to us internally rebuking our sinful pride. Let it speak to us vertically recalibrating our hearing and seeing such that we hear and see Him and thus, along with Job, despise ourselves and repent in dust and ashes (Job 42:5-6).