Grave clothes

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The sun was shining.
The trees swayed in the breeze.
The sky was clear.

Backpacks were packed.
Lunches tucked away.
Homework crumpled at the bottom of backpacks.

The commute to school was driven.
Drop-off line was the usual irritation.
"I love you's" were hurriedly said as children stepped out of the car.

Panic
Fear
Disbelief

Rushing back
Waiting

Spotting your child for the first time.
Relief
Enveloping and holding children as tightly as possible.

NO....NO.....NO....
Words that are incomprehensible fall.
Lives bound in a breaking and shrouded in grave clothes.

Death 
Death
Death



I've grown weary of hearing "our thoughts and prayers are with the victims".  As people of God, we will send up our prayers, and feel for the families in their grief but when will we stand against the unimaginable and be the voice for those who have lost so much? Not just for those within our city but for all the lives lost.

When will we as believers in a God who has created all persons as beautiful, whole, and wonderful beings reach the tipping point of rage, despair, and disillusionment to engage with the world in love and help to unravel the grave clothes of mass shootings? 

When will we be the ones who are willing to emulate the sacrifice Jesus made for us by assisting in creating clear and healthy boundaries for the use of bearing arms even if it means being a bit inconvenienced for those of us who believe in carrying our personal protection?  

When will we have the courage to help release the clothes of death that strangle us and leave us disoriented, let us be part of the hope and solution.



 

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