“Mum…” the young girl spoke up, “why is there war…and people killing each other…and so much pain?” she whispered. We were en route to school. Just a usual drive. Just one ordinary morning.
I looked at her face through the rear mirror. So angelic, so innocent, so untainted…
How do I begin explaining a hope so deep, when all she will see is a world dark and dusty?
“We have one hope, so strong and so deep it reaches to humanity’s most pitiful place” I slowly found my word, my voice caught in my throat.
Her questioned stopped me in my track, I have been thinking about the same thing too. “Yeah, how do you deal with all those pain and agony yourself? Cope with the feeling of powerlessness, handle youthful zeal of changing lives, shaping history while reality stares you in the face, the enemy seems triumphing in a world gone brutal and beastial…”
Slowly, I spoke…, and started her, on a hope journey.
“The Bible gives one hope, God calls it an anchor for our soul…” I continued, “Toss it to something firm, and you’ll always be safe. Just as a little anchor can hold a massive ship, a small faith in Christ, can hold you firm, whatever the world throws at you.” My words were carefully chosen, more for my sake of hearing, than for her.
The day spun my own questions about how to find hope in a day where planes fell off the sky, families shot in the air, little children die beheaded…“how is God seen through all these tragedy? Darkness?”
Later that night, I took my girl in my arm, opened the Word to her and played a scene that happened 6 hours one Friday night.
“It wasn’t an ordinary night,” I started. “It was blood-stained, tear-streaked, horrifying night that marked the history of our world forever. There occurred the most gruesome death to a man we called our Saviour. The Jewish leaders decided that he must die…They wouldn’t take him as the Messiah…insisted that he must be executed. Among them were men clad in soldiers garb, priests clothed in religion uniform, sitting on the ground jeering, mocking, sneering…
…but from a distance there were also one desperate crowd… men beating their chests, women wailing uncontrollably, hearts broken into tiny little fragments too many to gather. The hill looked gloomy with three battered bodies, bruised so bad they are unrecognisable. Arms spread, heads hung low, voices moaning away in screams of pain with the heavy wind…”
“Daughter,” i whispered, my voice drenched with heaviness. ” these men watched deep darkness falling over the earth…they couldn’t contain a pain so deep, a loss so overwhelming that they repeatedly beat their chests…some scenes will never leave you feeling, thinking, living the same. What do we do when we see something so horrific that a part of us bled and died? What would we do with that day in history and the fact that Christ actually rose from the dead? Everything in our life hinge upon what took place that one Friday night.”
I brushed the quizzed look on my daughter’s face, cupped her face in my hand and said . “If Christ had not been raised… then our faith is worth nothing…and we will die for nothing, and live for nothing.”
Now finding my own hope surfacing in my heart, continued “But if Christ had truly been raised from the dead….if death has come from what one man did…and resurrection for all of us because of that one same man…If it really did happen…If God really did let His Son died for us, then the hill called Skull Is filled with hopes that we can anchor our life upon.”
“Child”, I land my kisses upon her face, “Because of Christ, we have an anchor for our soul. Life is not empty and your death is not final. Our life is marked for destiny…you are worth more than anything the world wants you to believe.”
The night was getting late. I rose and slowly edged towards the door…”we must see ourselves through the eyes of the Cross, through the curtain torn in two, through the Great Judge who now pardons, through the precious blood dripping on that wooden cross. Our past, present and future are anchored upon our hope in Him…”
I kissed her goodnight. Lowered my head and looked at her straight in her eyes. “Though the world may go insane, remember, there is an anchor for your soul…”