On Paris

The grief of our world overwhelms me.
Its heaviness pulls at my heart and hunches my shoulders.
The weight of our human desolation wears me down.
I look to the news, and I despair.
The onslaught of violence steals my hope,
and I wonder if we can ever find joy again.
Gloom descends around us.
Thankfulness eludes us.
The smoke of bombs and the cries of warfare encircle us in fear.
We cry out to the God whose silence confounds us:
“How long, O Lord?”
How long will hatred and bloodshed trample our peace?
How long will pain plague our hearts and tragedy reverberate in our souls?
How long will the iron-clad grip of terror seize our spirits?
Surely goodness and mercy shall follow us.
Surely peace will pursue us.
Surely God’s grace will hunt us down and swallow up all our tears.
Surely . . . Possibly . . . Maybe . . .
O Sure God, we are so uncertain.
Show us?

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