Make haste, O God, to deliver me! O Lord, make haste to help me. (Verse 1)
Jesus says, "Surely I am coming soon." Amen. Come, Lord Jesus! Revelation 22:20
I don't think there is a way to make sense of evil. We know it prowls about in our world. Sometimes, like last Friday morning, it raises its ugly head and devours us. And we don't know what to say. Our hearts ache each time we inhale. We exhale the loss in a stream of grief for those parents and loved ones whose children, wives and lovers lay on a cold classroom floor for hours after evil mixed his blood with theirs. They couldn't even hold them. And where was God? I've heard this now so much from those who want the answer from a Christian. Some sincerely. Some in mocking skepticism.
Some say this holocaust happened because we left Him out of schools. Because we all have guns. That must be it. Kids these days watch violence on television and play video games with weapons used to wipe out the image of their enemy on the screen. Mothers daily kill their preborns before they ever even get to kindergarten. We have desensitized to death. Our mental health system is terribly broken. Why didn't someone reach out and understand the kid in whom a seed of rage was planted and grew into full bloom on Friday? All interesting perspectives with some truth. But none explains the carnage. We all want to direct our outrage and, with some, maybe before we've had a chance to let it settle for a bit. Just cry with those who weep over what we cannot explain.
I took a walk on the beach Saturday morning and pounded out the grief with each step I took. I needed to clear my response. Make it my own, unfiltered by the thoughts of others. I live in this world and I want to know what my God would have me think. Where was He? He, of course, is everywhere. We can't throw Him out of schools, either. I took Him there with me every day I taught. We have free will, though, lest we be puppets dangling from the ropes God uses to manipulate our responses. Love must be chosen. And shown. Christ became flesh and dwelt among us, and we slaughtered Him in a bloody massacre on a Friday afternoon. So, He gets it. God saw what we saw and feels what we feel. Don't doubt it. And one day He will arise and crush evil forever. He is coming back to judge and all eyes will behold it.
This world is not my home. I am appointed once to die. My days are numbered, as He knows them all. Psalm 139. It just might be that running through heaven in this moment are 20 little children who are swimming in the river of life that flows from the throne of God. Death is not for our Father what it is for us. The Lord of All waits with open arms to receive His children like I wait for mine when they drive up to my door. With the anticipation of big hugs. We are left bereft. They, released to joy. And evil? The young man whose story we don't know yet. I must leave his recompense to the Judge of all. But I fear he isn't experiencing the peace he thought his death would buy.
While I linger here, I believe God showed me what I, as a child of His, must do. Maybe all of us. Be salt. Be light. In a way we've never been before. The only way to accomplish that is to get closer to the our Father. To cluster as chicks beneath His wing. To listen to his heartbeat. To care about what and who He cares about. One person at a time. I can't be saltier alone. My light is dim to burned out without it being a reflection of God's exquisite brilliance. I must know Him in a deeper way. Like Jesus, I need to know the hearts of people I meet every day. One person at a time. Because it is hearts that must change. Herod killed all the children under two years old in Bethlehem without a gun. Mass murder isn't about weapons. It's about hearts. Choices. Rage. Power. Evil. We can't annihilate wickedness. Only God can....and will. But we can overcome evil with good one circumstance, one person, one day at a time until we are called home as those precious babies were on Friday.
In the meantime, our hope is in Christ Who will one day burst through the clouds when the Father stands up and says: "Enough!" Wickedness will drown in its own blood and so shall we ever be with the Lord. Maranantha! Come, Lord Jesus, Come.
Jesus says, "Surely I am coming soon." Amen. Come, Lord Jesus! Revelation 22:20
I don't think there is a way to make sense of evil. We know it prowls about in our world. Sometimes, like last Friday morning, it raises its ugly head and devours us. And we don't know what to say. Our hearts ache each time we inhale. We exhale the loss in a stream of grief for those parents and loved ones whose children, wives and lovers lay on a cold classroom floor for hours after evil mixed his blood with theirs. They couldn't even hold them. And where was God? I've heard this now so much from those who want the answer from a Christian. Some sincerely. Some in mocking skepticism.
Some say this holocaust happened because we left Him out of schools. Because we all have guns. That must be it. Kids these days watch violence on television and play video games with weapons used to wipe out the image of their enemy on the screen. Mothers daily kill their preborns before they ever even get to kindergarten. We have desensitized to death. Our mental health system is terribly broken. Why didn't someone reach out and understand the kid in whom a seed of rage was planted and grew into full bloom on Friday? All interesting perspectives with some truth. But none explains the carnage. We all want to direct our outrage and, with some, maybe before we've had a chance to let it settle for a bit. Just cry with those who weep over what we cannot explain.
I took a walk on the beach Saturday morning and pounded out the grief with each step I took. I needed to clear my response. Make it my own, unfiltered by the thoughts of others. I live in this world and I want to know what my God would have me think. Where was He? He, of course, is everywhere. We can't throw Him out of schools, either. I took Him there with me every day I taught. We have free will, though, lest we be puppets dangling from the ropes God uses to manipulate our responses. Love must be chosen. And shown. Christ became flesh and dwelt among us, and we slaughtered Him in a bloody massacre on a Friday afternoon. So, He gets it. God saw what we saw and feels what we feel. Don't doubt it. And one day He will arise and crush evil forever. He is coming back to judge and all eyes will behold it.
This world is not my home. I am appointed once to die. My days are numbered, as He knows them all. Psalm 139. It just might be that running through heaven in this moment are 20 little children who are swimming in the river of life that flows from the throne of God. Death is not for our Father what it is for us. The Lord of All waits with open arms to receive His children like I wait for mine when they drive up to my door. With the anticipation of big hugs. We are left bereft. They, released to joy. And evil? The young man whose story we don't know yet. I must leave his recompense to the Judge of all. But I fear he isn't experiencing the peace he thought his death would buy.
While I linger here, I believe God showed me what I, as a child of His, must do. Maybe all of us. Be salt. Be light. In a way we've never been before. The only way to accomplish that is to get closer to the our Father. To cluster as chicks beneath His wing. To listen to his heartbeat. To care about what and who He cares about. One person at a time. I can't be saltier alone. My light is dim to burned out without it being a reflection of God's exquisite brilliance. I must know Him in a deeper way. Like Jesus, I need to know the hearts of people I meet every day. One person at a time. Because it is hearts that must change. Herod killed all the children under two years old in Bethlehem without a gun. Mass murder isn't about weapons. It's about hearts. Choices. Rage. Power. Evil. We can't annihilate wickedness. Only God can....and will. But we can overcome evil with good one circumstance, one person, one day at a time until we are called home as those precious babies were on Friday.
In the meantime, our hope is in Christ Who will one day burst through the clouds when the Father stands up and says: "Enough!" Wickedness will drown in its own blood and so shall we ever be with the Lord. Maranantha! Come, Lord Jesus, Come.
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