Breathless Haste

The things we saw and heard that week were deeply impactful. That was especially true for me when we visited the 16th Street Baptist Church in Birmingham, the place where, in 1963, a Klan bombing killed four little girls as they were getting ready for their church Youth Day celebration. As we drove to the church, I saw the hotel where we had stayed when we came to Birmingham for Brock’s surgery years earlier. As my mind relived the experience of losing our child, I heard the story of the loss of these four children. As we shared Communion in that church, I could imagine the anguish of those parents and the toll that racism had taken on all of our souls.

This was another time when I could glimpse God’s providence. He knew I would be in this place at this time, and He was weaving it all together for a purpose I could not yet see. As we drove back to Chicago, I reflected on this in my journal. I wondered why He had taken me so far from home so I could return on a bus and finally see what I had missed for years.