Light pours into our window.
Thunder rolls deeply by.
As I sit.
Left alone with a familiar ache…
Why do monsters sometimes win?
Sweet Jesus, why this?
So I sink deeper.
Into the place of what if.
What if it was my girl?
What if it was our neighborhood?
What if? What if? What if?
I make myself mad with uncertainty.
I sniffle over the carrots I put into her lunch.
I reverently draw my hand over her homemade Valentine.
And I surrender to a paralyzing fear.
A familiar coat that now feels heavy against my skin.
It is so suffocating, so burdensome…
That I throw it wide into the light.
But the ache still persists…
It seems to grow stronger.
I begin to long for joy and peace and mercy.
I long for good.
I long for Him.
No, I ache for Him.
I ache for the moment where evil has been conquered.
Shattered into a million pieces.
Sent firmly into the deepest pit.
I ache for the place where all those who suffer at the hands of evil are whole and happy and free.
No more pain.
No more sorrow.
No more death.
I ache for all that is promised.
I drink it in wholly and fully.
It is light and without burden.
It opens my heart.
It champions my lips to pray intently…
For the family left heartbroken.
For the community shattered.
For the innocence lost.
And as I pray, the light becomes blinding.
It pierces the darkness.
It screams at monsters and evil and all that is unlovely.
It conquers, defeats and overcomes.
With every light that pours in every window,
With every candle lit and switch flipped,
Are all championed.
For even as I lean into the ache,
The light cannot be dimmed.
Even as it pours into our window,
And the thunder rolls deeply by.