Tuesday the news was filled with the spectacle of reporters crying. They weren’t alone. Maybe you shed a few tears yourself when you heard that 12 boys and their coach had made their way out of a cave in Thailand. “We can take a breath now,” a Miami diving instructor said on CNN before choking up.
Why did we get riveted to a spectacle on the other side of the world? Why did people who can’t seem to agree on much of anything share a common greeting—‘Have you heard how many boys are out’?
Maybe it’s because we all feel like we’ve been trapped in a cave with rising waters and a hard rain ready to fall.
It’s not that there aren’t plenty of rescues needed in every neighborhood. Go to the summer program at Agape Christian Children’s Community Center in Horntown here on the Eastern Shore and you’ll see how God’s love is drawing together volunteers and children. Or the Una Familia summer program where children whose families are often living on the margins get a chance to grow and play. Opportunities abound.
But there was something about the way the whole world came together to bring the boys out that showed us a thing we crave more than rescue—hope. A team of people with a common purpose used their skills, even to the point of self-sacrifice, to reunite children with their families. And no one questioned if it mattered or if it was possible. Everyone gave their best.
Ecclesiastes 9:10 says, “Whatever your hand finds to do, do it with all your might.” There is much for our hands to do as the people of God and when we are in touch with the hope that is within us, we will find ourselves as motivated as the cave rescue team. It’s a hope that found us when we were in darkness and despair and took on a treacherous journey through the waters to new life.
I’ll remember the faces of those boys for a long time. And maybe I’ll also remember my baptism and be thankful, hopeful, and ready to put my hand to the work of the God who saves.