Totaled

My first car was a sporty red Buick Skyhawk. My sweet, generous Grandaddy Wimberly bought it for me from Bob Ingram at East Lake Auto. It's hard to believe, but that was thirty-three years ago.

Grandaddy paid with cash. The car was just under $10,000, and nearly new – a dealer demo recommended to us by Mr. Ingram. It had covers over the headlights that flipped down when you turned them on. Not quite as cool as a Corvette, but in the dark, the effect was similar. It had a dedicated place between the seats for storing loose change, and a little spot under the radio where you could store four or five of your favorite cassette tapes for easy access. There was a luggage rack on the trunk, and most of the trim had extra chrome finish. It had power door locks, but you did have to roll the windows down by hand. I didn't mind that a bit.

That Buick took me lots of places. I drove it to high school for a few years. My senior year, Leah rode to school in it along with me. Then I drove it off to college – first to a nice, brand new dorm, then on many trips to the fraternity house for a couple of years, and finally to another dorm. In the Blizzard of '93, I didn't drive it home. Instead, I stayed on campus and chased my future Mrs. around on foot! Next, my Skyhawk took me to medical school. But there, our story came (quite literally) to a screeching halt.

I was driving down 8th Ave S, making for the remote medical student parking lot. And in a most unwise manner, I was also attempting to study pharmacology flash cards laid out on the dashboard in front of me. We had a quiz that morning. Unfortunately, I didn't realize the traffic ahead of me had stopped until it was too late. When I finally noticed the line of cars just sitting there, I slammed on my brakes and swerved hard to the side in an attempt to avoid them. Still, my front left corner hit the car ahead. My Skyhawk slid under that car a little bit, wrinkling up the corner of the hood. Thankfully, no one was really hurt. I had just banged up my Skyhawk and a couple of the cars ahead of me.

A mobile phone was advanced, expensive technology back then – I wouldn’t have one of my own for another seven years or so. So I borrowed a cell phone from one of the guys I had hit and called my dad. AAA came and towed my Skyhawk away, and I was left standing there on the sidewalk with a little stack of textbooks. I would never drive it again. The damage didn't look that bad, but it wasn't a very expensive car and it was already eight years old. The insurance company deemed it a total loss.

Sometimes that happens in the insurance world. Sometimes, the cost of repairing a thing that has been broken exceeds the value of the thing itself. In cases like that, you don't get your car fixed. You just get a check for its current value, and in a best-case scenario, you put that money toward the purchase of a new one. Thankfully, Dad bought me a Mazda that saw me through the rest of med school and well into my married life.

Our world has also been in a long series of accidents. There has been much heartache and suffering, much grief, and much loss. To it, we have all added the ding of a squandered opportunity, or the dent of a failed relationship. We have felt the jarring collision of a lost loved one. We have known wars, famines, and yes, even plagues. When you consider all of it, it's fair to deem it a total loss. The cost of fixing it all would be unimaginably high. And that is just what Jesus paid on a Roman cross.

We might sometimes be tempted to ask, "If Jesus won the victory, why do we still suffer? Why must we still face days of uncertainty and fear?" It's a little bit like asking why my insurance company didn't fix my Skyhawk. Some things are so broken that a fix is not enough. This world is one of them. And here, the matchless grace of our Lord is revealed. He has paid for all the needed repairs, but he does not offer us a patched up world. He has promised us a brand new one.

In this life, we will all walk through some dark days. We are in the midst of some right now. In times like these, God's word instructs us to do two things: trust in the name of the Lord and rely on our God.

What does it mean to trust in the name of the Lord? His name, rendered Lord in English, is YHWH. It means, I am. This is the precious truth we must trust in. God is. He is never surprised. He is never overwhelmed. He never falters, and he has never failed. Our own strength is limited, and we will inevitably stumble. But though a righteous person falls seven times, still they will rise again. We rise, not in our own strength, but in his.

What does it mean to rely on our God? This name, rendered God in English, is Elohim. It is the same name used in Genesis 1:1 to describe the Creator of heaven and earth. And it is upon this God that we can rely. The one who has made all things can surely make all things new. He has promised to do no less. The one who calls us is faithful, and he will do it.

Crises like the one we face today make the brokenness of our world more apparent than usual. But by God's grace, we have a blessed hope. Let us flee to take hold of it, and be greatly encouraged. It is an anchor for our souls, firm and secure. The world around us may quake and crumble, and the institutions of man may fail. Still, we may sing of our God's strength. This dark night will pass, and in the morning we will sing of his love. He is our fortress, our God on whom we can rely.