My son Andrew sent me a link to a picture that I thought you might find inspiring. Though it has since been taken down, there was a hospital shot of Uncle Gregg and family after a double lung transplant. Uncle Gregg was hooked up to a lot of tubes and machines, but there was a starry-eyed smile that just shone from his face.
As we go through the stages of grief and anger about what happened in Aurora, Colorado last Thursday night, we all have different reactions. There are those who want to eliminate access to such deadly firearms or at least limit access for those who show signs of mental illness, etc. There are those who bristle at the thought that anyone might come between they and their guns. There are those who had children or grandchildren who had gone to the midnight show somewhere else and realized it could have just as easily been them. Some are critical that there were so many young children at the theater and are judgmental of the victims. And there are those who wonder what kind of swift and appropriate justice can be dished out to the shooter so that the world will see that we cannot and will not put up with this kind of violence in our neighborhoods.
Here's a Jesus glimpse, through this picture. The death of one victim brought the possibility of life to somebody's Uncle Greg. And though all of us prefer that the victim could be using his/her own lungs this weekend, Greg's heart and the hearts of his family and friends are filled with gratitude and joy. It is a powerful reminder of how resurrection is all around us. God can bring life out of death, hope out of despair, and joy out of grief.
Throughout the city of Aurora women and men are asking, "Why here Lord? Why us? Why her and why him?" And for those questions there are few satisfying answers, at least not while the wounds are so fresh.
But in a hospital intensive care unit a very humbled Uncle Greg must be mulling over the other side of those questions. "Why him or her? Why me? How could I be so blessed by another's tragedy? And Lord, help me live the life remaining for me with such gratitude and love that I might bring glory to you as I honor the unwilling sacrifice of my donor."
It brings to mind the last two verses of Psalm 30:
You have turned for me my mourning into dancing;
You have put off my sackcloth and clothed me with gladness,
To the end that my glory may sing praise to You and not be silent. O Lord my God, I will give thanks to You forever.
