can we have an honest moment?
can i be real, even if it’s not pretty?
because this week is hard. soul-deep hard. on-my-face hard.
i remember being ten years old, gangly-kneed, wide-eyed, and fearless. chasing the shadow of my older brother, doing double-dares and determined to show him i wasn’t just some scaredy little girl.
on a family vacation, i distinctly remember one monster of a rollercoaster — a towering metal Goliath that was too, too big for my tiny frame. but — hard-headed as i
was am, i insisted. and i’ll never forget the moment, when buckles were strapped and movement began and bravado was replaced by sickly sweet nausea, when i began to hear the clicking.
click. click. click.
the roller coaster gaining altitude and announcing each movement skyward, away from solid ground, with a harrowing click of metal and chain.
soon: summit — and the view. a glimpse of magnificent height stolen only for a moment before the nose of the beast tipped down, spiraling all who were buckled there into terrorizing fear.
these past few weeks — they’ve been a little like that.
as i worked to help prepare for the Banebow 5k and as i pursued another opportunity to go spread the word about Banebow’s mission to a group of fellow bloggers, in the quiet of the bedtime hour, when the door closed on a long day, instead of silence and rest, i heard the sound of clicking.
slowly inching us — all of us who have been tethered together by this tragedy — toward the precipice of a painful milestone.
and on Sunday, when the balloon-arched beauty of Bane’s Birthday 5k had come to an end, when a flight deposited me back to a home that is hundreds of miles from my soul-friend, i felt the same sickly sweet nausea, the same gravitational gut-punch, as i had on that rollercoaster two decades ago.
can i say it out loud? that we are not okay.
that if you come to this space looking only for talk of God’s goodness amidst warm fuzzy feelings of praise … i must leave you disappointed, with this post.
can i say it plain? that the symbol of a rainbow — a Banebow — is so God-intended and fitting for us.
because when the rainbow was placed in the sky as a sign of the covenant between the God of creation and Noah, it wasn’t a gift wrapped in pretty.
in fact, its magnificence was highlighted by the darkness around it — a world that had been laid to waste by darkness and sin … a flood that overwhelmed all, and ark-floating days of future unknown.
and that’s where we sit right now … if we’re being honest. in talking and long-distance weeping with Sonya yesterday, i found a woman whose faith was not shaken — but a woman who was shaking, nonetheless.
because he’s gone. and though Banebow is being used by God to do amazing things, this ministry comes at a steep price. and some days, the cost must be carried, and our hearts bust wide with the pain of a loss that still feels fresh. and on those days, when we cannot weep poetry, only pain, we cling to the one thing that we have: hope.
and that hope was given to us by One who truly knows suffering — it flashes across our minds, an arc of color that promises that this world of suffering is not all.
we had planned on a new series this week, but we also believe it is true that out of the overflow of the heart, the mouth speaks … so we’re taking a couple of extra days to bind our wounds with God’s word and fix our eyes on the Savior before spilling words here.
tomorrow, i’ll post a recap of the fabulous Banebow 5k — a day of sweat and sweet fellowship, of celebrating with many of you who are so dear to our hearts.
and Saturday, one week exactly from his sweet birthday, we’ll begin a series where we discuss God’s real gift, offered to each of us.
until then, would you pray, friends? there is a sorrow that is rightful and true — but there is also a despair that the Enemy would love nothing more than to plunge us all into.
would you pray God’s light into this dark time?
after all — dark and light, rain and sun — that’s the very essence of Banebow.