A certain destination
by Andy Behrendt
None of us can really know when we set out for a destination whether we'll make it there. Nothing has driven that fact home for me as directly as the collapse of Minneapolis' Interstate 35W bridge over the Mississippi River yesterday evening.
It was a rare night when I was tuned in to the 6 o'clock news, and I was among the first to see the images of the inexplicable catastrophe. Like so many others, I just kept watching and anxiously pondered anything I could do to help. And I could only come up with one course of action: prayer.
I'm thankful to God that it wasn't even worse. I got chills late last night when I considered what could have been ... if the bridge would have collapsed when the school bus carrying 60 children was in almost any other spot on the stretch of highway or at a time when all the bridge's lanes were carrying traffic. Sad as it is, the fact that the toll at this moment stands at four confirmed dead, 79 injured and 20-30 missing makes it seem to me as if God was somehow at work in minimizing the tragedy.
I'm also thankful for the countless people who have been doing their own part to save lives. All the rescuers, police officers, firefighters, medical workers, civilian heroes and others offering support in so many ways. I'm thankful to the friends and relatives who called or e-mailed Tracy and me to make sure that we were OK. And I'm thankful that apparently no one from the immediate Luther Seminary community was directly affected — there have been a number of close-call stories and what-ifs floating around campus today.
All that sunny-side stuff said, the gravity of the situation can't be avoided. A lot of people obviously died, and it seems unlikely that all those being treated will survive. They'll never make it wherever they were headed. And so many people are in pain and still don't have answers about who, how and why. But again, that's where prayer comes in. And where God comes in.
There was a somber mood in our daily chapel service this morning on campus, a little more than 2 miles away from the collapsed bridge. There were some really relevant prayers, Scripture and hymns right out of our worship book. Psalm 39 echoed our anxieties of uncertainty: "LORD, let me know my end and the number of my days, so that I may know how short my life is. You have given me a mere handful of days ... truly, everyone is but a puff of wind." But a prayer for travel reminded me that God is "our beginning and our end." With God, through Jesus, we have a certain destination. And as the hymn by Thomas A. Dorsey concluded most chillingly and yet comfortingly:
"... At the river I stand, guide my feet, hold my hand. Take my hand, precious Lord, lead me home."
It was a rare night when I was tuned in to the 6 o'clock news, and I was among the first to see the images of the inexplicable catastrophe. Like so many others, I just kept watching and anxiously pondered anything I could do to help. And I could only come up with one course of action: prayer.
I'm thankful to God that it wasn't even worse. I got chills late last night when I considered what could have been ... if the bridge would have collapsed when the school bus carrying 60 children was in almost any other spot on the stretch of highway or at a time when all the bridge's lanes were carrying traffic. Sad as it is, the fact that the toll at this moment stands at four confirmed dead, 79 injured and 20-30 missing makes it seem to me as if God was somehow at work in minimizing the tragedy.
I'm also thankful for the countless people who have been doing their own part to save lives. All the rescuers, police officers, firefighters, medical workers, civilian heroes and others offering support in so many ways. I'm thankful to the friends and relatives who called or e-mailed Tracy and me to make sure that we were OK. And I'm thankful that apparently no one from the immediate Luther Seminary community was directly affected — there have been a number of close-call stories and what-ifs floating around campus today.
All that sunny-side stuff said, the gravity of the situation can't be avoided. A lot of people obviously died, and it seems unlikely that all those being treated will survive. They'll never make it wherever they were headed. And so many people are in pain and still don't have answers about who, how and why. But again, that's where prayer comes in. And where God comes in.
There was a somber mood in our daily chapel service this morning on campus, a little more than 2 miles away from the collapsed bridge. There were some really relevant prayers, Scripture and hymns right out of our worship book. Psalm 39 echoed our anxieties of uncertainty: "LORD, let me know my end and the number of my days, so that I may know how short my life is. You have given me a mere handful of days ... truly, everyone is but a puff of wind." But a prayer for travel reminded me that God is "our beginning and our end." With God, through Jesus, we have a certain destination. And as the hymn by Thomas A. Dorsey concluded most chillingly and yet comfortingly:
"... At the river I stand, guide my feet, hold my hand. Take my hand, precious Lord, lead me home."
posted by Andy Behrendt at 12:57 PM
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