Twenty-eight Children of God

Writing a blog after last Friday’s massacre is so difficult. I wish I’d done it earlier, with the first arrival of sparkling lights, bouncy carols, and holiday cheer.  But I didn’t.  So what can I say that hasn’t already been so eloquently said by greater orators than I?  As a grandma, I grieve.  As a mom, I mourn.  As a former teacher, I recoil in terror.  As a writer, I lack words to describe the innocence we all lost.  And as a child of God, I struggle to forgive…

“For God so loved  (insert the name of any of the 28 victims–including the shooter and his mother) that He gave His only Son…” God feels our pain because He felt it too.  The Father knew 4000 years earlier that the day would come when He’d hurt so much at seeing His Son suffering on the cross,  He’d have to turn His face away.  And yet, He proceeded with the plan.  I’m not sure I would choose to put my child through all of that even to save the world.  Yet He loved [loves] us so much, He didn’t want to live in paradise for eternity without us.

Of all the lessons I learned this weekend, perhaps this is the most profound.  1 Corinthians 13 says, “And the greatest of these is love.”  Love is more than a panacea, a platitude, or a trite cliche.  It is the most powerful recourse for such sin and depravity.  And this event tests, not God’s love, but my love.  Without love in my heart, the brightly colored lights aren’t as bright this year.  The cheery carols sound brittle and discordant to my ears.  And the Christmas cookies turn to wood chips in my mouth.

I speak only for myself when I pray, “Dear Abba Father make me a conduit of Your strange, super human love.  Where I am weak, strengthen; where I am angry, soothe; where I am embittered, soften.  Melt me; mold me; make me more compassionate…bring peace where there is turmoil, love where love has died, and joy where sorrow threatens to devour the hearts of Your children.  I crave Your healing touch.  Amen”

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