We go looking for comfort in half-truths served up like food that’s been sitting four hours on the buffet. We need old truths that still stand tall after centuries. “What is your only comfort in life and death? That I am not my own, but belong with body and soul, both in life and in death, to my faithful Saviour Jesus Christ.”
Eight days ago my sister-in-law’s house was hit by lightning. A fire started in the attic and threatened to burn the entire house down.
The week before that a friend died suddenly of a heart attack at the age of 61. As we prepared to attend her funeral last Saturday, we got word that another friend just died of cancer. There was no hint of any sickness when we visited her last summer.
These, my friends, are days that we need comfort only God can provide.
I’m depressed sometimes when I visit bookstores. The stacks are full of self-help books. Some of them are good. Many of them are trite. Recently it seems that publishers are working inventively to include as many swearwords in the title as a sales tactic. If you can’t educate, at least you can try to shock.