Monday, November 18, 2013

Whatever Means Possible

I love AMC's The Walking Dead. I have ever since day one, when it premiered on Halloween night three years ago. What's not to love? Zombies, Norman Reedus, and the gorgeous Georgia landscape?

Last night, after the newest episode of The Walking Dead, I watched Talking Dead. At the end of the episode, a very emotional Chris Hardwick spoke that he had just lost his father the night before, completely unexpectedly. Turns out, he passed from a heart-attack. I could tell something was wrong with Hardwick, as he is usually well put together (I would even say he's the under-appreciated Ryan Gosling) looked like he hadn't slept in days.

(Chris Hardwick's tweet on Saturday evening about his father.)

But it all made sense when Hardwick, at the end of the episode, explained the tragedy that hit his family just the night before. I saw myself suddenly. While my suffering wasn't public in comparison to Hardwick's, while I am a 20 year-old college girl from nowhere, Kansas, and Hardwick is a 41 year-old celebrity who lives in Los Angeles, CA (i.e., nothing in common), I saw myself. Seeing his face, so emotionally distraught, but trying to pick up and carry on and perform admirably, I knew what I looked like, heck, even what I still look like, now, almost 6 weeks later. How he got back on the horse not even 24 hours later is completely beyond me.

But God is funny sometimes. I am a huge believer that Lord speaks to His people in whatever way He sees fit, especially when we're in a dark place. Usually, I think, He'll meet us in prayer or while reading the Word. But because God loves us so much, He also meets us where we are, and wants nothing more than to have a relationship with His people.

Lately, I've been stuck in a rut. I'm not mad at God. I'm not really mad at anyone. I'm mostly just numb, at everyone, and everything, and I hate to admit this, but that includes God. I'm still wandering around in a state of sheer disbelief, and kind of going through the motions of putting my life back together.

But Chris Hardwick's tearful speech to the audience wasn't the only thing that tripped me up. During the episode, The Governor slept on a couch. And on that couch, a pillow. And embroidered on that pillow were the words my father gives me always as a piece of advice: "This too shall pass."

It's funny how no matter how many times man can say it, but it doesn't make sense until the Holy Spirit says it to you. You, an imperfect immortal, can struggle to put the pieces together all day, but until you're ready for divine help, it'll never come together.

Today was a very emotional day for me. I ended up crying in my car for an obscene amount of time after class, which I am ashamed to admit was the first time I've cried since my mother's funeral. I've been trying to do this all by myself up here, with no emotional support from a physical presence, as my dad, step-mom and brother are all two and a half hours away. I hadn't had the opportunity to make friends yet before mom's passing. I hadn't even found a church body that I could really attach myself to. But why I thought I was still alone is completely beyond me.

God will get your attention by whatever means possible. Through prayer, through the Word, and if you've been walking around deaf, blind and dumb for a month and a half, even through The Walking Dead. It might seem silly, but then again, what couldn't the God of the universe do?

(To read Harwick's exact word to the viewers, you can read the article here: )

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