I have woken up to many mornings of bad news. I remember one morning in 1993, in particular, waking to the sound of our light fixtures rattling as bombs echoed through the city of Bujumbura, where we were living at the time.
The first democratically elected president of Burundi had been in office for only a few months. But for weeks, the air had been thick with rumors of unrest. That morning, the rumors proved true. The city came to a standstill, and what had once been whispers of uncertainty became a terrifying reality. It was a moment that reminded me of how quickly life can shift. Our peace, and the peace of millions, was shaken.
Bad news and morning prayer
Jamie got into the car to go, as he did every morning, to morning prayer. I stayed home with our three young children. Stephen had just been born. The other two were seven and three. Our life was full of dishes, diapers, and bedtime stories. But that morning, everything changed. As the distant sound of gunfire and explosions echoed through the city, our hearts sank.
I felt shaken when Jamie walked out the door. We had already experienced unrest in the country a couple of years earlier. But I knew him. I knew he wouldn’t leave the church unattended because of a few simple explosions.
A few minutes after he left, he came back home. I have to say I was relieved when I saw him return. Soldiers lined the streets and motioned for him to turn around. This was no time to go anywhere. Even Jamie’s hands were tied, metaphorically speaking.
Thumbs-up, a sign of bad news to come
The day unfolded strangely. As quickly as the sound of explosions and gunfire began, they ended. An eerie quiet settled over the country. Radios went silent. Phone lines were turned off (this was in the days before cell phones). Even the national TV station stopped broadcasting.
The only sound we could hear was the rumble of heavy vehicles outside our front gate.
At the time, we lived in a neighborhood where many military members were based. So the sight of uniformed personnel wasn’t unusual. But this was different. We peeked out the front gate to take a look.
A convoy of military trucks rolled by, and soldiers leaned out with broad smiles, giving a thumbs-up—the unmistakable sign of victory. We wondered what the thumbs-up meant. We supposed it was a sign of bad news to come for us and the rest of the country.
We later learned those thumbs-up meant their mission was complete. The president had been assassinated in a military coup.
Months and years of bad news
The following months and years marked many mornings waking up to bad news. The kind that makes your heart skip a beat and knees bend in prayer. Because in those situations, all that you can do is pray.
We usually pray as a last resort and turn to it only after we’ve exhausted all our other options. But prayer was never meant to be our backup. Instead of being a last-ditch effort, prayer should be our first order of business every day, because it’s through prayer that we change the world.
My late father-in-law, Pastor Tom Peters, was quoted as saying, “You’ll either pray by choice or pray by crisis.” I have chosen to pray so that when crisis comes, I’m better prepared to meet it head-on.
We can’t escape crises, life doesn’t work that way.
“These things I have spoken to you, that in Me you may have peace. In the world you will have tribulation; but be of good cheer, I have overcome the world.”
John 16:33 (NKJV)
But we can prepare our hearts for them. Prayer steadies us when the world shakes (like our light fixtures shook that morning years ago). Prayer may not immediately change the situation, but it changes us and enables us to face the storms with peace in our hearts.
Not exempt but passing through
What have you woken up to today? If bad news has rattled your morning, understand that you’re not experiencing something unusual. You are passing through life with all of its news, both good and bad.
We’re not magically exempt from walking through valleys just because we have faith. That kind of thinking isn’t faith, it’s entitlement. Faith doesn’t promise an escape from the storm. It promises the presence of God in the midst of the storm. And sometimes, our role isn’t to be rescued but to be a refuge. To be the steady presence for someone else on a morning shaken by bad news.
“Dear friends, don’t be surprised at the fiery trials you are going through, as if something strange were happening to you. Instead, be very glad—for these trials make you partners with Christ in his suffering, so that you will have the wonderful joy of seeing his glory when it is revealed to all the world.”
1 Peter 4:12,13 (NLT)
Or, maybe this morning brought you the kind of bad news that made the light fixtures of your house rattle. It may be that you’re the one who needs a refuge right now. If that’s the case, know this: God is still near. Even here.
