Shortly after a violent EF4 tornado hit my hometown of Mayfield, Ky., in December of 2021, my wife convinced me to take an evening off and enjoy a “date night.” I realize it sounds awkward to say she had to convince me, but we were living in a rather unique context.
Due to the tornado, our staff had been serving the community virtually non-stop for weeks. We helped families with food, water, clothes, shelter, transportation, home repair, and many other necessities. Basically, regardless of what was needed, we tried to meet that need. And it didn’t matter what day it was, or even what time it was – we did our best to serve those in need. It’s impossible to adequately explain how proud I was of my staff for serving so faithfully.
So, after weeks of coming home both mentally and emotionally exhausted, Tara said, “We need to go on a date!” And she said it with her normal excitement and beautiful smile, so how could I say no? I suggested we go to a nice sushi restaurant in Paducah, which was about a 25-minute drive away, so we hopped in the car and enjoyed a nice evening ride.
When we arrived, we were seated quickly, our waitress was very kind and prompt, and we placed our order just as we had many times in the past. Tara is not really a fan of sushi, so she typically just orders fried rice. I, on the other hand, think sushi is the best thing in the world, so I ordered two of their specialty rolls – and they were pretty awesome!
Interestingly, I had a very difficult time as we waited for our food. I looked around the restaurant and noticed how everyone acted so normal. One table was watching a game on the large TV monitors. One table was laughing almost non-stop and seemed to be enjoying a fun evening. A young couple was having supper with their children. Everything was normal – too normal – and I was really struggling.
I realize this might sound odd, but as I sat there in that restaurant I kept thinking, “Do they not know of the devastation just 25 minutes away? How can everyone just sit here laughing and having a wonderful time while so many, who are so close, are suffering?” Honestly, I felt guilty for being there. I felt like I should be back in Mayfield helping someone, not enjoying a relaxing evening with my wife.
But then the sushi arrived, and I felt much better about life! Seriously, though, as nice as it was to enjoy an evening with my wife, it was also rather difficult.
A few days later, as I reflected on my feelings that evening at the restaurant, I was reminded of the lost. Specifically, I was reminded of how many times I’ve been close to the lost, maybe even right next to someone who’s lost, and I simply acted normal. I was reminded of how many times I’ve gone about my day, acting completely normal, paying little to no attention to those headed towards eternal suffering and devastation.
At some point, if we truly believe what we claim to believe, we must ask, “How can we act so normal?” Let me encourage you, and maybe even challenge you, to reflect on your proximity to the lost. Reflect on the ramifications of acting so normal around those who may very well be heading towards eternal death. And as you reflect, let me further encourage you to be abnormal. Let’s do our best to make Jesus known to those who are perishing.