What would be helpful to write? That I’m exhausted and ready for several hours of uninterrupted, dreamless sleep? That my body was shivering from the inside out during my eulogy, even though people said I appeared calm and collected? That a part of me wanted to stroke his soft buzzed-cut hair and command him awake in the name of Jesus from where he lay in his casket? Surely I loved my brother as much as Mary & Martha loved theirs. There’s no sense comparing apples to oranges, even though the same God who raised Lazarus is just as powerful today as he was then. The fact remains that God spared my brother’s life once and gave him back to us for 10 ½ years, but this time, He chose to bring him home.

God doesn’t have to answer to me – He is the one who is sovereign. He can still receive glory from my pain & heartache and the anguish I feel right now at the loss of my brother and the compounding responsibilities of caring for his two boys weigh heavy on my shoulders.

In fact, I believe the visitation & services last night and today did honor God, and I’ve heard of one story, in particular, when a co-worker of a family member asked another co-worker (who is a Christian): “How can they be so calm?” to which the colleague replied: “Because they have Jesus.” Glory to God in the highest!

I had a chance to take a nap before the visitation yesterday evening. It was an overcast day, and when I woke up, the room was dim. I glanced at the window, closed my eyes again and thought to myself: “I don’t know how I’m going to do this.”

With my eyes still closed, I sensed a bright ray of sunshine flooding the room. I felt its warmth and could tell how bright it was, even with my eyes closed. I whispered to my God and Savior, the one who alone could help me get through the day and days to come: “I love You, too.”

As quickly as the sun had peeked through, it was suddenly gone again. I opened my eyes to a dim room and cloudy sky outside.

Thank You, Lord, for that moment of reassurance that I can still praise You in the storm.

What an amazing video we watched tonight in my ladies’ group. It was one of Beth Moore’s sessions from her “Breaking Free” series. The topic was generational prejudice. Her teaching stirred in my heart several memories of prejudice — both on the giving and receiving end.

It breaks my heart how we (yes, “we” — myself included) can strive so hard for godliness in our walks with Christ and yet hold back such ingrained pre-judgments about other people. That’s what prejudice is: judging people before you get to know them.

As Beth Moore said, it stems from fear and ignorance … and it isn’t just racial, although that’s certainly an issue and has been a hot button ever since the Egyptians first began fearing the growing Hebrew population and decided to enslave them.

One thing she said that really struck me is that prejudice is natural. It’s often something we grow up experiencing — often so much so that it’s quite literally second nature. Many Christians don’t even acknowledge that it is wrong to pre-judge people in this way. “That’s just the way my people are,” we say. “My grandparents and my parents raised me this way.”

However, what we fail to realize is that just because something comes naturally to us doesn’t exempt it from being sin. When she said that, I immediately thought of other areas in our lives that we might try to justify by calling it “our nature.” Growing up in a home full of foul language doesn’t make it ok for you to curse. Growing up around an alcoholic doesn’t validate your own addiction. Growing up in an abusive situation doesn’t give you the right to hurt others. It seems like a no-brainer when said that way, but somehow prejudice is pigeon-holed into its own special little box and buried in the backyard. We just avoid talking about it.

One thing we talked about in our small group after the video is that we will not be able to make sweeping changes worldwide, but we can start with ourselves and begin reflecting on our own pre-judgments about others.

I attended church with my family down in Houston on Dec. 28, and during the service, an outline started unfolding in my mind’s eye along with some verses and pictures from my memory. It had nothing really to do with the sermon topic, but I jotted down some notes and looked up a few verses that had come to mind.

The gist of my sermon, for lack of a better term, is that despite the athletic prowess and sheer guts of some human beings, we are utterly incapable of crossing the gap that separates our sin … minor though it may seem in comparison to others … from a holy God.

Out of curiosity, I looked up a few stats & records. Pikes Peak is more than 14K ft above sea level. The Grand Canyon is 10-18 miles wide. The world’s long jump record is about the width of a two-lane highway. The standing long jump record is approximately 12ft (approx one lane of the highway).

I began thinking of that scene in Grease 2 where Michael attempts to jump the gully, which reminded me of Evel Knievel, so I did a little research on him. Before each of his stunts, he used to pray: “God, take care of me. Here I come…” not knowing whether he’d survive.

Passages of scripture came to mind like Romans 6:21-23, which says plain & simply that our sin deserves death. Philippians 3:4-9 where Paul recites his very impressive resume and yet calls the accolades akin to a pooper scooper when compared to Christ. Then there’s Ecclesiastes 7:20-22, which reminds us that no one is perfect … no one.

You see? It doesn’t matter if we’re being asked to long-jump a four-lane highway or the Grand Canyon! We … can’t … do … it. Period. My supposedly “little” sins keep me on one side of the canyon just as helplessly as another person’s “gigantic” sins.

Then I thought of Indiana Jones and the bridge of faith that he had to cross while searching for the holy grail. Despite our most cunning, clever, sugar-coated efforts, we simply can’t jump far enough to overcome our sin and reach God, but God provides a bridge to cross the chasm that separates us through Christ.

This word is on my heart to share … I feel like the outline & illustrations came to my mind for a reason. I’m just not sure what the venue is supposed to be. Is it here, on this blog that only a handful of people read? Is it in front of the congregation? Is it with my small group? I don’t know yet.