I’ve tried to write so many times in the last few days. And there are no words. I mourn with those who mourn. I weep with those who weep.
The Darkness longs to cover the Light. Hatred wants to snuff out Love. How long? How long? Why, why, WHY?
Sometimes, the darkness feels so overwhelming. I sit with eyes brimming, ashamed of my humanity. Ashamed of my imperfection. Grieving for my brothers and sisters. Grieving for myself. Grieving for the world.
The sky is darkening and I can’t see the light. Sorrow, sorrow, sorrow. In the darkness, I whisper, “God? are you really with us? Were you with them?
Jesus wept.
Even though he knew the end of the story, he still wept. Even though he was knew that he was healer of pain and the life of all death, he grieved and cried.
Advent.
It’s hard to light those candles. Hope. Peace. Joy.
By faith.
It’s hard to explain why I believe what most see as foolish. I’ve sat here for hours now, wrestling with what looks foolish, fighting the lump in my throat, the sheen in my eyes, the questions in my heart.
Jesus. You promised. You beat death. You fought evil. You won.
All that is ugly keeps fighting. It keeps trying to blot out life. It tries to destroy what is beautiful and all that reflects Light.
I’m going to keep lighting the candles because I don’t see but I believe. Those candles symbolize the Hope, the Peace, the Joy, the Love. The Christ.
As we light each candle, we acknowledge the light within. Jesus.
Light meeting light until the darkness glows bright and is no more.
Come, Lord Jesus.
“Now is your time of grief, but I will see you again and you will rejoice, and no one will take away your joy. ” (John 16:22)