Near misses are good things.
Knock on wood, grazing disaster without experiencing the full brunt of calamity often imbues us with a heightened sense of gratitude. It's an altruistic adrenaline rush born of a relieved heart. As the impending storm nears and the forecast worsens, you contemplate every worst-case scenario. In an attempt to steel yourself for the tragedy about to occur, you begin to second-guess going or staying, questioning your preparation, and fretting what was left behind. Then, you wake up the next morning and you are still standing.
Instead of disaster, you gasp in astonishment at how you averted destruction and recognize deep in your soul that it was none of your doing. You were powerless and yet were held harmless. You were in the path of the storm yet were saved.
Once you realize you are safe, then you quickly discover your nightmare scenarios have been realized in others lives. Instead of survivor's guilt, the sense of relief transforms into survivor's gratitude. And so you spring into action to help. You carry someone to safety. You offer a place of rest. You serve a warm meal. You want to do everything you can to make the situation better for someone else--first your family and friends and then for people you don't even know.
And that's how the Gospel ought to play itself out in our lives. We should be so grateful that we have averted eternal destruction, despite deserving it like everyone else, that we boldly love our friends, family, and total strangers who are still suffering their own spiritual downfall. Many new to the faith do experience an euphoria and eagerly tell everyone they can about their experience. But as our distance from the point of near disaster widens, so often does our energy and compulsion to share. To all who have barely missed a tragedy, congratulations.
Don't forget the feeling.
