The news is filled with diatribe. I have to weigh the desire to be informed against reporters trying to bend my emotions for their own agendas. A stirring within reminds me what lack of understanding feels like; pointing my fingers at everyone and especially God for losing someone I loved. In the worst hours of my pain, I wanted justice but God was not to be a part of that. I blamed Him, I accused Him, I talked about Him not being there, but never once did I actually talk to the Lord Himself about any of it. I can’t even remember saying a single prayer.
Closing all the news feeds I go back to the only good news (gospel) which can offer me truth and answers. Now is not the time to preach against the ills of our society. Now is the time to mourn with those who mourn. Quietly I begin to pray for those who lack understanding and will try to point fingers. Somewhere in the world, someone did the same for me once.
Shutting my eyes I can hear a single song verse, “what would you even say, when all of the words get in the way, what would love do now”?**lyrics by La Esperanza