hope remains

Last year at this time, my friend Andy and I rather spontaneously hopped in a car and headed for Louisiana to help out with hurricane relief. The week and a half turned out to be a pivotal time in my life. As I sat in the shelter and rocked babies to sleep, wondering if their mothers would pick them up from the makeshift daycare, where they would live, and what kind of life they would be deprived of because of the tragedy, my faith was tested. Most of my time was spent with the children who were living with their families in the middle of a convention center floor and from their mouths I heard some truly heartbreaking statements--words five-year-old children should never utter. One told me about the dead bodies she saw floating in the water, another told me she wanted money for her birthday because she didn't have any clothes, and many talked about their dispersed families. As I read back over my journal entries from that time, the records of the heartache, over and over and over, I wrote the following words, "And hope remains. And hope remains." Honestly, I'm not sure if I was writing them because I believed that hope remained or because I was trying to convince myself that it did. But it's true. Hope did remain. Amazingly, the victims of Katrina did have hope. Really, it was all they had--and they clung to it. And by doing so, they reassured me that I too could have hope . . . that God truly was love, though to look around at the thousands of displaced people, it didn't always seem like it.

On Sunday, I was reading over what I had written last year and was struck by the realization that over the past two weeks, I have been feeling close to the exact same emotions. On Thursday, the 7th, my friend Cara gave birth to a beautiful baby boy, Zion David, and due to some unexpected complications during birth, he passed away. That night, I stayed up late, praying for Marc, Cara, and Zion, for comfort, for hope, for ressurection even. I thought of David, who also lost a baby boy and upon hearing of his death, immediately went to the temple to worship, and I wondered how he did it . . . how he later wrote that God is close to the brokenhearted and saves those who are crushed in spirit. Surely, that moment was the most heartbreaking of his life. And it gave me hope to know that David could worship, that he could continue to feel the presence of God during such a difficult time. It gave me hope for Marc and Cara, and it gave me hope for myself--that I could continue to believe that God is good.

The next morning, as I drove to the hospital, the words of an old hymn kept flowing through my mind, and so I began to sing it to myself . . . "Jesus, Jesus, how I trust him. How I've proved him o'er and o'er. Jesus, Jesus, precious Jesus, oh for grace to trust him more." Honestly, there were moments that I found myself forcing the words out of my mouth, fighting to believe that it was true. But when I walked into Cara's hospital room, the struggle ended. The grace, love, and hope of Jesus was undoubtedly present in that place. Marc and Cara's words were full of sorrow mixed with unwavering faith and hope. Even then, Cara said that she knew God was going to do something huge . . . but I knew he was already doing it, particularly in my own life. I really can't even begin to describe how she and Marc have served to strengthen my faith during this time. And because of their faith, as I looked down at Zion's perfect, beautiful face, I could think only of God's goodness, of His promise of eternal life, of his craftsmanship, and his proximity to the brokenhearted. And then I understood how David could worship in the midst of such sorrow. Hope does remain. It really does.

There's so much more that I could write about the past two weeks . . . about the way Zion's life has affected our community, the beautiful memorial service we had in his honor, and the strength and faith of Marc and Cara, but as for now, I'll simply say that I am so thankful for Zion's life, for all that he has taught me, for the hope I was reminded of.

"From Zion, perfect in beauty, God shines forth." --Psalm 50:2