It’s a phrase that comes from the London Underground. Since there’s nothing to fill the gap between the passenger car and the platform, this is what is heard to prevent passengers from being caught unawares and suffering injury by stepping into the wide gap.
It’s the same phrase that rings loud in my head when I start to spiral down with questions I know I’ll never get answers to until I stand before God after my time here is done.
I have to mind the gap. Why Ryan, God? Why not me? What about all the prayers? How could something like this happen to our family? What are we supposed to do now?
If you think I haven’t asked these questions – you’re wrong. If you think I have a “remarkable” faith that helps me coast over these questions – you’re wrong. If you think I haven’t yelled at God – I’m sorry and you’re wrong. I have my weak and ugly moments, and so does everyone close to this.
These questions will never go away. I know in 20 years I’ll be somewhere doing something and one of those questions will blindside me again.
What maybe makes this story different is that there is a point where you mind the gap. You realize that some questions will never get answers. And then you’re faced with the ultimate question – “Will you still follow me?”
Minding the gap means swallowing hard and turning to the only hope you know is real, knowing that what you don’t know is the stuff that faith is made of. Faith isn’t a set of laws. It’s not getting dressed up for Sunday morning church and going through the motions. It’s the thing you cling to when you’re taking your last breath in a freezing river whose current is too strong. Well, the current is too strong for me right now, and so I’m clinging.
PSALM 131:
1 My heart is not proud, O LORD, my eyes are not haughty; I do not concern myself with great matters or things too wonderful for me. 2 But I have stilled and quieted my soul; like a weaned child with its mother, like a weaned child is my soul within me. 3 O Israel, put your hope in the LORD both now and forevermore.