Yesterday my morning joy at seeing God work in our church was smashed by my afternoon horror at seeing evil work at a church in Texas.
My despair at seeing us hit over 300 mass shootings in 2017 overwhelms me.
Though it should not matter where wickedness does its death dealing, somehow having it happen at a place of peace hits home hard for me.
Finding out the pastor was out of town that day only compounded the responsibility I feel to insure that our church is a safe place. Reading the post of a friend who said she always “strategically sits in church where she can see all the exits,” breaks me.
I don’t have the answers, but I do know my tolerance for seeing another tragedy responded to by “sending thoughts and prayers” or posting a hashtag is at an end. I don’t want to be this man of resignation. I want to be a courier of hope. A trumpeter of God’s hard work to restore all things and move us towards the forever table of peace. And until that day, I want to think about what I should do and then pray for the courage to do it.
This world needs men and woman who don’t just curse the darkness, but light the candles.
I affirm my hope to be that man.
To be that church.
To be that city.
“It’s looking like the Evil side will win, so on the edge
Of every seat, from the moment that the whole thing begins
It is Love who makes the mortar
And it’s love who stacked these stones
And it’s love who made the stage here
Although it looks like we’re alone
In this scene set in shadows
Like the night is here to stay
There is evil cast around us
But it’s love that wrote the play…
For in this darkness love can show the way.”
-David Wilcox
Written by Thomas Thompson
