Sometimes all we can do is weep.
That’s certainly the case this week, as we grieve and lament the utter evil on display in Uvalde, Texas – in yet another mass shooting – this time at Robb Elementary School. We mourn the senseless murder of 19 children and 2 teachers, and we pray that “the Father of mercies and God of all comfort” (2 Cor. 1:3) will minister deeply to all those affected.
Our hearts are broken for the families who have lost their loved ones. For the community that has been forever marked by this tragedy. For the darkness that can overcome a human soul and drive someone to such madness.
And so we weep. Yet as we do, we weep with faith.
That even though we’re halfway across the country from our brothers and sisters in Texas, “the Lord is near to the brokenhearted, and saves the crushed in Spirit”. (Ps. 34:18)
That even though we don’t know how to pray, “the Spirit helps us in our weakness. For we do not know what to pray for as we ought, but the Spirit himself intercedes for us with groanings too deep for words”. (Rom. 8:26)
That even though we see darkness all around us, “the light shines in the darkness, and the darkness has not overcome it”. (John 1:5)
And that even though we can’t make sense of the evil on display in our world, a day is coming soon when God “will wipe away every tear from [our] eyes, and death shall be no more, neither shall there be mourning, nor crying, nor pain anymore…” (Rev. 21:4)
But until then…
And for now, we weep.
“Yet saints their watch are keeping; their cry goes up, ‘How long?’ And soon the night of weeping shall be the morn of song.”
Come quickly, Lord Jesus.