There He is. The Prince of Peace. Watching our chaos: A country at war for nearly a decade; a government so dysfunctional that its leaders have taken the economy hostage and are threatening to throw it over a cliff; a town completely heart broken, busy preparing twenty precious and bullet riddled children for burial while the rest of us look on in shock and horror; families in constant conflict, with husbands and wives arguing endlessly over meaningless things while brothers and sisters are at each other’s throat one minute and united in open defiance of their parents the next. And then there’s me, and maybe you, with our chaotic and stressed out minds, wracked with doubts and regrets and indecision and constant worries — so conflicted that we can barely move, much less act with any real conviction. And in the midst of all this madness stands the Prince of Peace, watching.
I desperately wish He would do something. Fix something. Fix me or others around me. Instead, it seems like everywhere He goes, chaos follows. But in my better moments, I know it’s the other way around — everywhere chaos goes, He follows. I know He’s been there amidst the fog of war, the heat of those political battles, the stress of family conflicts and the utter despair of the grieving parents of Newtown. And He’s been there with you and me as we wrestle our stressed out thoughts struggling to keep it all in the road.
I get it that the Prince of Peace is needed most at scene of chaos. And I get it that we are supposed to follow along. But honestly, I wish He traveled with a giant spotlight — one with enough amperage to allow us to see clearly for miles and miles. If He did, I think I would still follow but, no doubt, I would occasionally run ahead — either in search of the next adventure or at least in search of the next exit so that my family and I could get the hell out of some of the chaos around us. But this is a Prince that travels light — with just enough light that we can see little more than our feet in front of us and then only if we stay close.
I suspect the Prince of Peace is more comfortable with chaos than I am. He was both made for it and born into it. I guess in that way, He’s the perfect travel companion. And so we travel with Him. Lugging our chaos from place to place. In the dark. Barely able to see the ground in front of us. Following a Prince who is in search of more chaos, another place that could use His peace.
I know He is in Newtown this week. I hope and pray that the people there can feel His presence and that they stand close to His light. They are surely experiencing a chaos I can only imagine. But the Prince is comfortable there. He’s there right now. No doubt.