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This morning, I woke up and read Psalm 91:
He who dwells in the secret place of the Most High shall remain stable and fixed under the shadow of the Almighty. I will say of the Lord, He is my refuge and my fortress, my God; on Him I lean and rely and in Him I trust. For then He will deliver you from the snare of the fowler and from the deadly pestilence. He will cover you with His feathers, and under His wings you shall trust and find refuge. His truth and His faithfulness are a shield and a buckler.
As I read those words, my heart whispered to the Lord: What about Charlie? Did You do all this for him? Why was he taken in the way that he was?
And in that quiet space, I felt the reminder settle in my heart: I believe You, Lord. I believe Your Word. I believe You are my refuge and my fortress. You are my God. I believe I can trust You. I believe You will protect me and mine. I believe You give Your angels charge over us. I don’t just believe it as rote memory—I have seen it; I have experienced it. I have known You to be faithful.
Then came another reminder: We each have a race to run. Charlie ran his race. Scripture tells us that every person has a time appointed—our first breath and our last are known by God. For some, it is at four years old. For others, at thirty-one. For my grandmother, it was ninety-nine. Every single day is written down before one of them comes to pass.
Charlie’s days were in God’s hands. And how extraordinary that Charlie’s final breath was spent living his purpose—calling people to think more deeply about truth, urging a generation off the couch and showing us all how to run into the battle of ideas.
That is no small thing.
Lord, let it be said of me, when my race is done and I take my final breath, that I too ran the race set before me—faithfully, and with purpose. Amen.
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