Sometimes I want to go see a movie, but I’m unsure about the content.  You know, am I going to run from the theatre in embarrassment, will I surely die from fright, will I (heaven forbid) cry around a bunch of people that I don’t know, or possibly worst of all, will I be completely unimpressed.  All of these questions are important to get answered.  So, I typically ask one of the college students or barely post college students what they thought about the movie I want to see.  The most frequently asked question is; “Can I see it with my kids.”  Because, seriously, you can’t even trust Walt Disney anymore.  Once in a while, this system fails me and I’d like to tell you why.

In different circumstances and surroundings, we hear things differently.  The same exact information, but heard differently because something in our environment has changed.

If I’ve completely lost you, I’ll explain.

Blades of Glory!  Will Ferrell movie. 

So. . .I go to my trusted advisors: 

“Hey guys, can I see this movie?” 

“Oh, yeah, yeah.  That movie is great.” 

“O.K.  Can I see this movie with Anna?” (my 13 year old daughter)

“Oh, yeah, sure.  Umm, uhh, yeah, I’m pretty sure.”

Someone else chimes in:  “Yeah, the movie is really funny.  You can see it with Anna.”

New person:  “Definitely.  In fact, we’ll go with you tonight, if you want to.” 

So, I say: “sounds great, let’s go”.

Hollywood 16 - Enter college students, several adults, and me with Anna.  The movie begins and so does the uncomfortably squirming and fidgeting.  Not until the movie stops does the blushing and face covering cease. 

 Same movie, different reaction, because the circumstances changed.  Later one of the college students said to me; “I saw that movie a few days ago and I thought it was really funny.  But with Anna sitting just a few seats away from me, I couldn’t stop feeling really embarrassed.” 

My reaction:  “Yes, I know!”

 But this isn’t just about movies, is it?  We hear the same things said by the same people over and over until sometimes, they can seem casual, common, even easy to take for granted.  Until something in our circumstances changes and we hear it so differently.

  I’ve told my mother countless times that I love her.  You know, “love you Mom”.  “Talk to you later, love you Mom.”  But somehow on that day 41/2 years ago when they were getting ready to take my mom into surgery to remove a tumor that was Stage 4 breast cancer – “I love you, Mom.  I really love you” brought silence to the room.  They were the same words, spoken by the same person to the same person, and yet galaxies away from being identical.

How many times I have heard the words spoken to me “we’re going to have a baby”.  In fact in the last month and a half, I have had the honor of two phone calls from former youth counselors telling me that they were having babies.  So, in a way, I guess I’m going to be a Grandma.  Oh, but when the words were mine (all four times) they took on a whole new meaning (most especially the fourth time).

We could never begin to count the times in our lives when we have said the words “Good-bye”.  As a youth director, I was accustomed to taking youth on at least one trip every month.  I would watch and listen as parents told their children good-bye for the weekend (following instructions on what NOT to do while on the retreat).  “Good-bye, see you Sunday.”  Everybody is waving: “good-bye, good-bye, good-bye everybody”.

 But, on November 19, 1999 while I stood beside the bed of Timothy Doran Kerlee – the twelfth student to die as a result of the bonfire collapse – I heard his parents tell him Good-bye.  “We love you son and we’re going to miss you like crazy, but we’ll be alright.  It’s o.k. for you to go and be with Jesus.  Good-bye, Tim” and somehow I knew that I could never hear those words in the same way again.   

Circumstances change the way we hear the words that are spoken.

 I grew up with two grandmas, one who was very happy and one who could have easily been convinced that the sky was falling.  She used to say, a lot; “what is this world coming to”.  As a child, a teenager and a young adult I only heard those words as words coming from a woman whose life experiences left her with a pessimistic view of the world.  But then I became a parent.  And every time I watch the news and every time I hear the events of this world, I can hear those words “What is this world coming to”. 

I mean, for crying out loud, I’m trying to raise kids here.  What’s happening?  What in the world is this world coming to?

Two weeks ago, on Maundy Thursday of Holy Week, I watched as the police department used a large hose to wash away the blood of a twenty two year old man who had been killed the night before.  What had been sustaining his life just 24 hours before was now being washed down the street with no more meaning than you would wash away a spilled ice cream cone.  What is this world coming to?

This week – Virginia Tech – 33 people dead at the hands of one obviously sick young man.  What is this world coming to?

Why are these things happening and what hope do we have for our future and the future of our children and grandchildren? 

I can just begin to seem like too much, can’t it? 

For centuries people have been trying to answer the question, “Why do bad things happen to good people”?  And yet, we are still no closer to an answer.  Steven Hawking can come to ATM and gave his explanation of black holes, (whether or not anyone else understands what he’s talking about) but no one has yet to really explain the mystery of tragedy in our world. 

How are we to hear these things?  How are we to guard our hearts in a world that seems much more intent on breaking them?  I was listening to KSBJ this week and they were asking people to call in and give advice on how we are to remain encouraged as Christians in such a tragic world.  I listened to the songs that they played and the voices that spoke advice and I was reminded.  Even the worst news can be heard with the best news in our hearts and on our minds.  God has promised us that we are never alone.  Though the world may crumble and fall around us, we are not alone.  God’s faithfulness is great, His mercies are unceasing, and His love is steady and unchanging.  Though we may stand at ground zero, we do not stand alone.  Though we may say good-by, we are reminded of God’s promises that good-byes are temporary.  Jesus says; “Do not let your hearts be troubled.  Trust in God; trust also in me.  In my Father’s house are many rooms; if it were not so, I would have told you.  I am going there to prepare a place for you.  And if I go and prepare a place for you, I will come back and take you to be with me that you also may be where I am.  You know the way to the place where I am going”.

Lamentations 5:19  You, O Lord, reign forever; your throne endures from generation to generation.

And surely I am with you always, to the very end of the age.  Matt. 28:20

I am with you ALWAYS. 

Lamentations 3:19-24

I remember my affliction and my wandering, the bitterness and the gall, I well remember them, and my soul is downcast within me.  Yet this I call to mind and therefore I have hope:  Because of the Lord’s great love we are not consumed, for his compassions never fail.  They are new every morning; great is your faithfulness.  I say to myself, “The lord is my portion; therefore I will wait for him.”

One night last year, after the death of a friend – a young woman whose little boy had not yet turned one year old, I sat outside and pleaded with God to help me understand.  God, please help me see how you can be present in this pain.  I looked up that night and the moon was just a sliver in the sky.  You could barely even see it.  God spoke to the very depths of my heart, that night.  “Is the moon any less the moon just because you can only see a sliver of that moon?  The moon remains the moon, in all of its entirety no matter what you can see with your eyes.  I am God and I remain God, in my entirety, no matter what you think you can see or feel.”  You know, I thought about that so much.  How often I have wanted to go out to see the full moon or step outside to see a beautiful moon.  But the moon is always full.  It doesn’t change – only what I can see changes.  God does not change.  He is God in all of His goodness and mercy, no matter what I see.  God promises: I am with you when the sun is shining and when the rain is falling.  I am with you when the laughter is raucous and I am with you when the weeping is so intense it can only be heard in the quiet and the still of the night.  I am with you. 

When we hear the words spoken;
We’re having a baby – God is with us

And when we hear the words spoken:

We love you, but it’s ok for you to go.  Good-bye son -

God is with us!  His rod and his staff, they comfort us.  

Even though we walk through the valley of the shadow of death, God is with us.

It does not mean that our pain is taken away, it does not mean that life will offer us no tragedy to deal with, what it does mean is that our pain is God’s pain.  Our tragedy is tragedy to God.  And I know that no greater pain has ever been felt than the pain of God as he watched his son Jesus take on the sins of this world and die on the cross. 

How do we guard our hearts and minds against the tragedies of this world?  Quite, honestly, we can’t – not completely.  But we can hear the worst of news while remembering and holding onto the best of news.  God is with us.  He will never leave us or forsake us.  His presence is powerful and, no matter our circumstances, his presence remains.   

In Matthew, chapter 11; Jesus says; “Come to me, all you who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest.  Take my yoke upon you and learn from me for I am gentle and humble in heart, and you will find rest for your souls.  For my yoke is easy and my burden is light.”

So, when we hear the news and our hearts break, when we walk on the sidewalk where a life was lost and our sense of good is compromised, we have a choice.  We can say; “what is this world coming to” or we can be reminded that God is with us. 

We can say; “name above all names, worthy to be praised, my heart will choose to say:

                                                How great is our God”. 

Benediction

June 27, 1980 - November 18,1999
God's hand is always there; once you grasp it, you'll never want to let it go.
Miranda Denise Adams