TRAGEDY...

"It often happens that the real tragedies of life occur in such an inartistic manner that they hurt us by their crude violence, their absolute incoherence, their absurd want of meaning, their entire lack of style." ~ Oscar Wilde

It's an odd topic to break-in the new overhaul of my personal online website. I know. But it's currently the topic of my personal considerations, and thus the only piece of relevant discourse I have to offer: Tragedy. I have to imagine that almost every one of my peers and elders have by now experienced this profound and heart-wrenching circumstance at one point, or sadly at many points. For any man or woman who has chosen to love someone or something else apart from themselves, then it is an inescapable fact of life: tragedy will occur, and you will feel it deeply, painfully. A tragedy is not simply something sad that happens to someone, it's much deeper in it's scope then that. I'll leave the table of definitions to be set by this link to wikipedia - sufficed to say that the sorrow felt by a tragedy is infinitely worse than that of just a sad event in life.

This week, I've witnessed tragedy in both the massive (the earthquake in Christ Church, NZ), and also in the singular (the death of my friend's brother in law). It's created a very somber atmosphere within the hallways of my thoughts, recalling the pains of the two real tragedies that have occurred directly within my own reach of those I've loved. As Oscar Wilde so rightfully puts it, the entire lack of style, the crudeness, and want of meaning when faced with tragedy, is what places us into such a tailspin of emotions. The closer to home it hits, the harder the blow.

My heart has been mourning with my friend and his family, both immediate and extended, over the death of Robert Hall this week. A father, a husband, a man and missionary inspired to do great things in the name of his creator - violently ripped apart from this world by a freak accident while helping to build at a college in Kitwe, Zambia. If you read the article linked to his name, the image held by imagining the event is too much to bear.

Life is fragile. Yes. This we know, regardless of how little we may consider it daily. Questions of why abound, while answers are simply not there regardless of faith. Even within the Christian context, we know that the rain falls on both the wicked and the honest. A Christian would simply be apt to acknowledge that in our sinfulness, our deed to perfection is lost, and every living creature made fair game to the dangers of the world. There is little to satisfy the painful sorrow and confusion left by a sudden act of such tragedy. Time. Love. Healing. These are the only things that help, with the recovery time different for all.

This Sunday at the church which I call home, The Well, the family of Robert Hall is going to be there, and I'm certain it will be a service unlike any I've ever been to. My suspicions are that the service is gonna be pretty powerful. I'll be playing the bass with the band, and knowing the musical caliber of these guys, it's gonna be intense. As well with my friend's Dad preaching, the combination seem to be the right ingredients for something special. If any of you know me, then you know I don't preach, I don't push my beliefs an ounce past the tip of my nose, so you know that none of this is about any of that. I bring all this up instead to suggest that if any of you have ever wondered what I believe, I suspect this would be that moment by which you could gain some insight. Please feel free to come, the address is HERE.

That's all. A heavy post, from a heavy heart. Confession concluded.