When I’m not traveling, I drive my daughters to school. I usually have the news on the radio. As soon as I started the car last Monday, the first report was about the tragic event in Las Vegas. Quickly, I shut off the radio, not wanting Annie and Katie to hear the horrific details. At the next traffic light, I quickly checked my phone. My car has automatic locks and every day when I drop them off at school, I need to manually unlock the doors to let them out. On Monday, I pulled up in car line and, for a long moment, my finger hovered above the lock. I didn’t want to unlock the door. I didn’t want to let them out. I felt afraid and powerless to keep them safe. Annie’s kiss on my cheek brought me out of my paralysis and I eventually sent them off, but I couldn’t shake the feeling all day. I later relayed the experience to a friend. I told him of the helplessness I felt. His question was interesting to me, “Dan, are you feeling helpless or hopeless?” He went on to share that we are, more or less, helpless to prevent terrible situations. However, recognizing our helplessness can bring us closer to the Lord and make us more conscious of our dependence on Him. Hopelessness, according to my friend, is something much worse. “It’s one thing to realize you’re not in control, it’s another thing to not believe He is.”
In my life and leadership, do I model belief in the “power of resurrection, that no night is without an end”? As I try to process this tragedy and the tragedies that may come, may my helplessness, my desperate need of God, allow me to unlock the doors of my heart (and my car), and bring others to the hope that comes in finding our help in Him.