I’m up early this cold morning, waiting for the sun and the temperature to rise before I take my walk. Waiting can be hard. I cope with it by finding something constructive to do because the activity, no matter how meaningless, gives me an illusion of control.
For days now, the residents of Fargo have been waiting for the Red River to crest. My cousin Karen and her family live near the flood plain. Their days and nights have been filled with activity. They’ve helped sandbag the river and moved everything to the second story of their house. Two of my southwest Minnesota cousins have daughters at college in Fargo. While the kids are sandbagging the city, their parents wait for their children to call or email, and make plans about how to get them safely home.
With a catastrophe this large, there’s no way to create an illusion of human control. Everyone in Fargo and all of us watching know this situation is beyond us. We need more help than men can offer, hope beyond what we can see. That’s why people, including many who claim not to believe in God, resort to prayer.
Waiting isn’t easy. Most of us turn to it when we come face-to-face with our own helplessness, when there’s nothing more to do. I’ve been in that place often in the last few years. Whenever my lack of control drives me to prayer, the same truth emerges: kneeling before the God who is in control is the most constructive thing I can do.
Father in heaven, only you can help Karen and her family, Kalli, Briana, and all the people suffering in Fargo. Give them wisdom. Keep them safe. Give them the hope of Christ, the God who suffered for their sins and rose again. Amen.
