on a kind of nihilism.

“…Oh my love
High above us
The Sun now
Embraces Nature
And from
Nature we should learn
That all can start again” (Riz Ortolani: “Oh My Love”)

But what about the lilies of the field who withered away during the winter? How is it any constellation to them that some other lilies will “start again”? How can it be any constellation for our love for those lilies that we now have some other ones?

“He also had seven sons and three daughters.” (Job 42:13)

But what about Job’s former children who were ravished by that God-forsaken tornado? How is having a new set of children going to be any constellation to the eternal suffering Job must endure in losing his other children? Are the new ones supposed to replace the old ones? If not, will the new children provide Job with just enough joy so that he may simply forget about his former children? How is that not just nihilism?

I really don’t struggle with having eternal hope. I believe with every fiber of my being that there will come a day when the Kingdom of God will be ushered in and we’ll be with one another and we’ll be able to love one another as He loves us. But that kind of hope is cheap and easy. What’s not cheap and what’s nearly impossible is to hope that some beautiful fact about the future in this life will somehow make up for everything I have destroyed. I hope this suffering will never fade away until all things are made as if they were new.

The brightest light
Cannot return
To where it was
Formerly absent
Even if
Those shadows are
Still present.