A comment on Double Rainbow

By now, if you consider yourself a resident of cyberspace, you’ve probably seen Double Rainbow. There are auto-tuned songs about it and even a CNN article about why it’s so huge. I have an opinion too.

This weekend, the hubbs and I were in the mountains for a wedding. I’m coming off of a few pensive weeks, and with the addition of a long mountain drive  and a few glasses of wine, I was overwhelmed with emotion. …

My heart hurts for a death that seems unfair, brutal and dark. I can’t explain why God didn’t comfort someone in pain or why another person’s way of comforting herself is slowly killing her. My shaky grasp of hope starts to slip as I think about people around me with terminal diseases, breaking marriages and hidden addictions.

When their solutions are to dig deep into themselves
or the universe
or their jobs
or their mistress
to find a cure
or a distraction
or an idol
or a quicker death,

I don’t see a God who can save and redeem. I see myself in their pain and their coping. I don’t suffer very well. I grapple for them, with them, praying to God for answers to the darkness while secretly thanking Him that they’re not really my questions. From my distance, I can say that God is good and he is always love, and I can keep my disbelief to myself.

So this is where I was this weekend, sifting through pain and my perceptions and my emotions, and pondering how Christ is the answer for someone who doesn’t believe in him. And then there was a double rainbow. And people joined me and the hubbs to “ooh” and “ahh.”  All of us floundering people — some knowing and believing God, others not — gathered to take pictures and video of the sight.

And God spoke to us, even if we didn’t all understand what he said. He promised us something. He told us he loves us. He reminded us how mighty he is. He reminded us of something that was already written on our hearts. Click to hear for yourself.

And that explains Double Rainbow. We hurt and our solutions are all folly, but God still speaks to us. His promises remain. And we love to, need to, hear it.