I turned 33 yesterday, and many people have told me that it’s the year that Jesus finished his earthly ministry and was crucified. Not only did I start thinking about all that I hadn’t accomplished up til now, but I also started thinking how I would be crucified this year. And they call themselves my “friends.” But today, I got a taste of pain, though on a much, much smaller scale.
This evening, I was putting the finishing touches on this website. I clicked the button and sat in shock: I erased all of my posts. All gone. But I’m not afraid. I have a backup. Phew. So I followed the instructions and purged my old website from the server to make room for the backup. Then I uploaded the backup, and I got this message: “It looks like WordPress is not installed. Click here for…” My server was a blank slate. There was no data. So not only did I erase the posts, but I also erased all of my pages as well. The day after finishing the website, nothing was left.
In worse moods, I would’ve ranted. Even in the good state I’m in, I was still tempted to question: “Haven’t I been faithful, God? Why would you…?” (I know, sad, isn’t it?)
But for some reason, I didn’t stay there that long. Four hours later, after finding all of my old posts on Google (oh yeah — gotta love Google’s “cached pages” link. But it also means that nothing ever really leaves the Internet — rant one day, and you will never be able to erase that shame. Muah-ah-ah… Sorry, I digress)… so after rebuilding my old webpages (luckily, the customizations didn’t disappear), after meticulously re-adding the formatting and links to the posts, after readjusting all of my options, after even putting the correct date and time stamps back on the posts — my blog is back. But the comments didn’t survive.
I wish I could say that it was a meaningful day. But it didn’t feel that way. There was no epiphany, no angels from the sky, no sounds of bells or trumpets nor were the heavens rent open. No — just another day. Rebuilding. And sure, I learned more about websites, updated the blogging software and even fixed a few bugs. But in essence — there was no rhyme or reason to lose everything today. But what else could I do? Sulking doesn’t sound like much fun, and I wouldn’t have much to show for it except an annoyed wife. So instead, I rebuilt.
So if this is my year of the Cross, it should also be one of Resurrection, right? And sometimes Resurrection looks amazing, dramatic, powerful. Other times, perhaps it looks more like rebuilding after the storm, one day at a time.