Catastrophe. What a word. A momentous tragic event ranging from extreme misfortune to utter overthrow or ruin, a violent or sudden change in a feature of the earth, a violent and usually destructive natural event—utter failure. Praise God, our story may be filled with catastrophe, but His story doesn’t end when ours fatally fails. The final chapter, that eternal happy ending, was written from the start and is coming to fruition no matter the monumental bumps in the road.
As we gather round the campfire in this second chapter, the old man tells us more of the greatest story ever told—the story of the God who loves us and plans for us even still. We smell the smoke as it dances and our minds race with images of every God-breathed Word.
Gladding paints by God-ordained numbers a picture of the very start of catastrophe, that feeling of being “less than”. It gave Eve pause every time she thought about that one forbidden tree and it allowed for Cain to find it less than appalling to consider killing his brother. It swept the nations until God finally swept them all away.
As I read this chapter, I found myself wanting to be some fraction of the intrigued little girl with all the questions, the wise old man who is okay with not having all the answers, and the ecstatic musician who leaps to his feet upon figuring something out.
It would be a catastrophe to settle for anything less.