I was busy spreading joy in my own corner of the world because living without my valentine is unbearable unless I choose to reach beyond the pain and love others.
While weaving valentine deliveries amidst the mundane, I was unaware that students and educators huddled in closets, texting their families frantic heart cries. Some their last.
Like many, I ended the day in sorrow. Once again, a senseless shooting shattered our peace.
This morning, questions lay unanswered.
Why God? Why does this have to happen over and over, especially to our children?
I want to huddle myself, hide from another tragedy.
How many can one personalize?
The usual indictments and solutions cover the airwaves this morning, yet, again, they fall short.
Where do I run when I can't find the answers?
Where do I run when the talking heads leave me weary?
I lift my eyes up to the hills, to my Maker. Not for answers or solutions, but for help. Help to continue to feel the pain of others, help to continue to spread joy amidst the ashes.
Chris Martin echoes: Still I always look up to the sky; pray before the dawn.
I sit in the ashes of sorrow and look up! To the only One who can heal the brokenness, who can keep us from evil.
I enter this Lenten season looking up, praying before the dawn and into the night—laying bare my life to the One who keeps it. I pour out my sorrow for being part of the broken. Today, I don't seek answers; I seek the Answer.
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