The colors of hope.

Yesterday, fog was rising from the fields.

The world awash in sepia tones.

Light shines at a different slant than it did just weeks ago.

Birdsong has taken on an air of spring.

And the geese are headed north again.

…

I had bundled up for my walk at the park this morning. Brisk but beautiful.

Meandering along the trail, I found myself near the trees and could smell the woody fragrance of the pines.

The wind had changed direction, and with it my thoughts.

I contemplated the direction of my life.

The direction of this world.

In my chest, I carried a somber and weary heart.

Thoughts of children whose lives were taken just days ago. Another school shooting.

Tears welled-up in my eyes as I thought of the families.

Those mothers.

…

Waking up again this morning to their child’s empty bed.

I can only imagine the deafening silence. 

Walking down the hall to see photographs hanging. Images of laughter no longer to be heard.

The light of a precious life, now extinguished.

Stories to be told. Memories to be made.

Gone.

Oh…those mothers.

Their arms must be aching with wanting. A painful longing to hold their child once more.

Their hands must be clutching to belongings. Wanting to pull them close, to feel their warmth. To smell the sweet scent of her hair. His coat.

A mother’s need to nurture and hold.

A deep desire to comfort our children.

But those mothers, they weren’t given a choice.

Separated. They couldn’t be there to embrace their children in the last moments they breathed life here on earth.

Suddenly taken.

Haplessly lost.

James 4:14

Yet you do not know what tomorrow will bring. What is your life? For you are a mist that appears for a little time and then vanishes.

Death and loss carry the weighted burden of sin in this world.

A burden that those mothers bear like no other.

A burden that touches the hearts of all those who look on. Watching from afar.

It can seep into our lives like ink into water.

Blinding us from God’s grace.

Stealing our joy.

I have been held in the throes of darkness. In depression. An existence of bleakness unrelenting. A desolate sense. Where the world has lost all color. 

It was as if a veil of gloom had descended upon me. Wrapping tightly around my then-twisted soul. Disoriented and astray. A heart confused and misplaced.

With that veil came a great void.

A cavernous empty.

Utter blackness.

Absent of brightness and hue, it is no wonder that grief is described in shades of darkness.

For it is there that the enemy hides.

…

My mind cannot fathom the depth of sorrow that permeates the lives of those families.

The ones whose hearts are faintly beating. Wounded and exposed.

Vulnerable to the seduction of the enemy. A temptation to drift downward toward a seething spiral of sadness.

Catastrophic circumstances diminish our strength and we can find ourselves languidly slipping into an abyss of despair.

Into the blackness of sin in this fallen world.

A seemingly hopeless and ever-discouraging place.

A garnering of grief.

---

But we onlookers have a more visible choice. 

A more apparent option.

We can succumb to the sadness. We can wrestle with woundedness.

OR…we can recognize and claim our identity in the Creator.

The Maker of Light.

Romans 6:23

For the wages of sin is death; but the gift of God is eternal life through Jesus Christ our Lord.

1 Thessalonians 5:17

Pray without ceasing.

Let us pray for them. Let us lift them up.

Those families.

Those mothers.

Pray that God’s Light shine brightly into their days, illuminating their path and offering a glimmer of relief. Some comfort.

So that one day ~

One glorious day, they will come to know and trust in Him. Amidst their suffering. Despite their unspeakable loss, they can once again give Him glory for the Cross.

Because in the Cross there is life.

An eternal and together-with-Christ, forever-flourishing life.

A life where those grieving mothers, mourning fathers, and the broken-hearted siblings and friends will one day be together again with their beloved.

---

Easter is coming.

And on that day we celebrate His Resurrection.

Our Jesus.

Christ died on the Cross for us. To save us.

He was buried.

But on the third day – a miracle!

On the third day He had arisen from the dead.

At Easter, we claim His victory over the grave.

For our Sovereign God redeems all things.

Even death.

In His Glory, we can see that our Lord is the true color of Hope.

For it is at the Cross that we find genuine hues of healing.

We discover unfeigned shades of salvation.

And rich, vibrant tones of triumph.

…

In this faith place, we are free to receive.

Gratitude is ushered in and we find peace.

May we recognize and appreciate the blessing of another day with our loved ones.

With our children.

Another day of life breathed into us, that we might share His love and light with those whom we share our lives.

And with those who merely cross our paths.

As I look back on this tragic event, I consider my own life here at home.

I examine scripture, again.

Matthew 25:13

Watch therefore, for you know neither the day nor the hour in which the Son of man comes.

Bearing this in mind ~

This afternoon I will listen to a beautiful piece of music.

I will sip a cup of tea as I look out the window and marvel at the clouds that blow unhurriedly across the February sky.

I’ll arrange a lovely bouquet of flowers that I picked up at the store. Setting them on the table so that the evening light can glisten through the old cut-glass vase.

And most importantly, tonight I will hold my daughter’s beautiful face in my hands, look into her eyes, and tell her how very dearly she is loved.

…

And if I am blessed with another tomorrow ~

Well…I will go for a walk and breathe in the glorious, fragrant scent of the pines.