Seeing through the smoke

Why, you do not even know what will happen tomorrow. What is your life? You are a mist that appears for a little while and then vanishes. James 4:14

Leaving town and driving south on Interstate 95 last Thursday triggered memories of the movie Deep Impact. It is a 1998 science fiction disaster movie portraying the attempts to prepare for and destroy a gigantic comet set to collide with Earth and cause a mass extinction. The comet is named for Leo Beiderman, the teenage astronomer that discovered it. To cut to the end of a very long and intense movie, the diversion attempts failed, but it was successfully broken into pieces. But a large chunk lands off the coast of North Carolina and causes a massive tsunami. In the final scene, Beiderman and his family climb the Appalachian foothills to escape the catastrophic tidal surge. They reach the top and turn to look back. All they can see is the haze caused by the gigantic waters, but as the water rescinds, the sun breaks out in full glory, and it’s a happy ending. When we reached the rest stop at the North Carolina/Virginia border, people all around, myself included, were standing, marveling at the beautiful blue sky and breathing the clean air. Due to Canadian wildfires, many of us were driving south to escape the worst air quality ever recorded in Washington, DC. The air was dangerously smoky for several days, and the haze blocked the sun. Like in the movie, we were trying to outrun nature’s fury and look for a visible sun in the sky.

It struck me how ironic that we were smack in the middle of another potentially deadly historical event. First, the pandemic, and second, code Maroon air quality. June 8, 2023, is now recorded as the day the DC area had the worst air quality in the world. The whole experience was another vivid reminder of the fragility and vulnerability of humanity and that we are not in control. The meteorologists blamed the wind for pushing the smoke into the northeast. “For behold, He who forms mountains and creates the wind and declares to man what are His thoughts, He who makes dawn into darkness and treads on the high places of the earth, The Lord God of Hosts is His name” (Amos 4:13). The wind may have been the vehicle that pushed the smoke. Still, humanity always needs to be mindful of the Driver of the vehicle.  

Life is fragile, and even the non-Christian can agree with that, but it’s where we find our stability in the face of powerless control of our lives that differs greatly. At the end of the day, whether the sun is shining or hiding behind the haze, He is all that matters. He is the One that puts the wind in our sails. He calls us to rise each day ready to receive His fresh mercy and sustaining grace no matter how fragile our lives may feel or be. Life’s fragility reminds us of our intense need for God’s power, promises, and salvation. And that’s your Tuesday Tidbit.