The Call in the Chaos
I do not like chaos. I dislike it with every fiber of my tiny being. I prefer order. I have a lot of planners and notes in my phone that speak of this. Admitting this may seem slightly strange if you know me. I have been known to do some pretty impulsive things while I am still navigating through my twenties. Despite my slightly whimsical outlook and decision making tendencies, I still like structure when it comes down to it.
It is no secret that the world is a crazy place right now. My usual need for things to go according to plan has been thrown out the window along with a lot of the schedules I had. One thing I have learned over the very tumultuous year or so we have all experienced is that God is good. God is good even if He seems to be social distancing. God is good when we wear our masks even in front of Him. God is good when a loved one gets sick or when we can’t walk in our graduation ceremonies or have the sweet sixteen party we wanted. God is good even in the middle when we cannot see the next step.
I have always noticed something, even faintly in the background of seasons of chaos. There is always a call. This call beckons us to be still and know, to be still and trust. Honestly, we do not have another logical choice. Just recently, when we experienced some incredibly painful and horrendous things as a nation, I felt a tug at my heart to turn off the news and answer this call. I sat in my kitchen and cried. I asked God why and He told me to be still. As much as I wanted to run, I sat still. I had to. As much as I wanted to jump on a plane and drink coffee on an island somewhere away from the crazy, I sat still. I sat still and listened to the call that beckoned in the midst of it. There is something to be said of a person who does not run from the problems that present themselves, but instead faces them head on.
There is a call even in the middle of the pain, my friends.
It’s not every day you get to swap stories with a Holocaust survivor but just recently I was able to do that thanks to Zoom. A Vienna born Jewish man seated beside his lovely wife spoke to about eighty or so virtual attendees. At the end of the seminar, we were able to meet him and ask questions. I told him about the traumas of my toddler years and the tragic way in which I lost my mother. I asked him a question about resilience; what was it that kept him going and what advice he would give a young adult like me who has suffered the loss of a parent or family member. If anyone had advice on how to get through hard things, it would be an individual who went through one of the most horrible atrocities known to man. His answer was simple yet so profound. He said “Optimism, which translates to hope. Always believe the next step will be good. Remember the positive things and keep going.”
So to you, dear readers. Sit and listen to Jesus in the middle of the mess and hold on to hope. Heed to the words of a man who suffered long and lost so much during the Holocaust. Believe the next step will be good, and please, just keep going. There is a call in all this chaos.
Rachel Skirvin is a lover of travel, nachos, and the gospel. She is a graduate of Urshan College and will most likely always call it Gateway. She is pursuing her master’s degree in counseling and human services with an emphasis in trauma and crisis and is currently serving at The Pentecostals of Cooper City in South Florida