Tragedy Strikes Another School in Minnesota

Once again, a school shooting, this time in Minnesota. In mere moments, a family was shattered, and what was supposed to be an ordinary day is now filled with dread.

In the wake of this incident, many memories surge back, particularly the somber event at Covenant School in Nashville two years prior. That one hit close to home. Covenant was our church for many years while my wife and I called Nashville home. I can vividly recall watching footage of a SWAT officer racing past the very room where I used to sit during service. Returning to Tennessee from Montana to play the piano at the funeral of one of the victims turned my grief into something much more personal.

These kinds of moments often make you feel overlooked. Slowly, once the chaos subsides, the laughter of the world may emerge. Politicians dismiss prayers, late-night shows mock faith, and social media often offers up sarcasm instead of solace. The pain felt unbearable, as I found myself grappling with a sense of absurdity.

This whole situation brought to mind a story from Acts 9, about a street called Straight. Saul had just undergone a profound transformation after encountering Christ on the road to Damascus. Meanwhile, God revealed to a disciple named Ananias that Saul was waiting for him in Damascus, and Ananias would be the one to pray for him.

Initially, Ananias hesitated—Saul was notorious for persecuting Christians. But God provided Ananias with an unexpected assurance: “I will show him how much he must suffer for my name” (Acts 9:16).

Before long, Saul became Paul, the apostle whose letters shape much of the New Testament. From the onset of his mission, the reality of suffering was not hidden from him; rather, it was placed directly in his path. The Greek phrase implies something akin to a perfect measure of suffering. There’s no ambiguity; the road ahead was marked with hardship. Nevertheless, Paul journeyed onward.

His work as an apostle was never cloaked in illusions of tranquility. Five times he received lashes totaling thirty-nine strikes, damaging his back beyond recognition. He was beaten with rods three times and even stoned by a mob. Paul didn’t write from a theoretical standpoint but from a life that bore the marks of his experiences.

When he drafted words of encouragement, he expressed, “We are pressed on every side, but not crushed; perplexed but not in despair; persecuted but not forsaken.”

These reflections stemmed not from some ivory tower but from the battlefield of life. The Bible further expands on this theme by depicting Job, who faced immense loss. His wife, in her desperation, urged him to “curse God and die.” Yet Job responded, “Though He slay me, I will hope in Him.”

Why? Because he understood that those willing to suffer ultimately find redemption.

This truth resonated with me especially after my wife’s intense surgery. Gracie was in recovery after her ninety-eight surgeries, and in that vulnerable moment, I saw her clenching her jaw, waiting for relief as the pain spiked. She looked at me with a mix of anxiety and distress.

As tears filled my eyes, I thought of Paul’s journey and often remarked that were I to see Paul’s scars, they would be numerous. Gracie, through gritted teeth, stated emphatically, “I am not the apostle Paul.”

I placed my hand on hers and replied, “No, you’re not. But the same spirit that upheld him is with you. You will not be forsaken.”

While the pain didn’t vanish, we persevered together—not by any strength that Paul, Peter, or Jesus possessed, but by something much deeper.

In life, God doesn’t always provide clear answers. He didn’t clarify Job’s suffering, nor does He explain our own. What can we truly understand about the tragedy in Minnesota?

Yet, there’s some clarity in His message. He offered Paul a perfect measure of suffering. He shared the fate of Peter. He made the dangers of faith clear to His disciples, yet they continued onward.

These figures left behind a legacy of scars, letters, hymns, and messages that speak to us today. Their experiences equip us to navigate our own uncertain paths.

Often, it’s hard to see the way. The Bible says God’s Word acts as a lamp for our feet, not a spotlight illuminating the entire journey ahead. In darkness, we may not grasp the full picture. However, each step forward can still shine a light.

Sometimes, God pulls back the curtains just enough to reveal a daunting path. For the family in Minnesota, navigating through loss comes at a heavy cost. The scars Paul bore, the steadfastness of Job, and the unwavering resolve of Christ heading to Calvary resonate through time, offering strength and comfort.

We remember when our own blinds are lifted, revealing that progress often hides behind the veil of pain.