Thin Ice

One winter, several years ago, we went up the valley with the family and their friends, and Dusty, the dog. Snow lay on the ground and we stopped at a loch to play on the ice. There was laughter and joy as some ‘skated’ out.

But I was most aware of the cracks appearing in the ice. I could hear them. I could sense them. I couldn’t always see them. Everyone else insisted it was safe. They wanted to play hockey. They wanted to slip and slide. I went back to the car, fearful of the consequences if the ice did not hold. Dusty chose to come with me.

The corona virus pandemic has given the world pause for thought. We have been skating on thin ice for years, oblivious to the cracking. The ecology of the world is threatened; the ice is not only cracking, literally, it is melting fast. I am convicted that my whole life has been lived in ignorance of the brutal racial injustices perpetrated by whites against blacks in America, my ‘home, sweet, home’.

The ice has not just cracked, it has broken, and we are floundering in the freezing water. Our hope, our only hope, is in Jesus, our Saviour, who is in the water with us. He isn’t floundering. He is there, strong and able, mighty to save each of us when we cry out to him, mighty to save the world for which he died.

This morning I cry out to him to save this world, his world, from the evil engulfing us. When God’s people humble themselves and pray, he promises to not only hear, but to heal, to heal the land, to heal the hearts of the people. May the sound of his voice cause the pandemic to recede, justice to flow to those who suffer persecution, and the hearts, minds and wills of the people to effect change in our lifestyles so that the earth can recover. You, Jesus, who are mighty to save, save us. We are helpless without you.