Las Vegas, Tears, and Light

What makes a person shoot a group of innocent people?
What makes a person pull out a knife and go on a stabbing spree?
What makes a person plant a bomb that will bring death and destruction?
What makes a person drive a truck though a crowded square, mowing down pedestrians?

What is that thing? Can we find it? More importantly, would we even know how?

I ask this, because look at social media, especially lately.
It’s not enough to disagree anymore. You simply can’t speak your opinion and have a discussion and part as friends.
Agree to disagree.
Love through the disagreements.
Oh no; I fear those days are gone for many many people.

Everything is politicized.
Every. Thing.
Bitterness coats the minds of many like a fine dust; it creeps into every nook, cranny and corner.

I see posts wishing politicians dead and hoping for a national holiday when it happens.
I see those who see nothing wrong with mocking Christianity.
Or God.
Or praying. Take your pick.
I see those who pat themselves on the back for their “State of Enlightenment” all the while screaming at those who disagree.
I see how many who loudly preach tolerance are often the least likely to give it to others.
I see labels assigned to people who simply have a different opinion, branding them with unsavory adjectives as if that will somehow shut down the dialogue.

I see a swirling mass of darkness and it makes my heart hurt.

And yet, in those moments of darkness, I am cheered, because I see something else…I see pierces of light.
Holes punched through the bitterness and the rage.

Some are large; some are just tiny pinpricks, but still, enough to let the light get through. I see these shining beams of light and I am thankful, because in a world that often seems dark, their light reminds me that goodness is there. It’s always there. It won’t scream, of course, ‘cause that’s not what light does.

It simply shines, despite others trying to block it.
It doesn’t play the politics game; it just…shines.
And helps.
And encourages.
And loves.

To those who light the world, thank you. I feel your warmth. Please, never stop.

And to those who wear bitterness like a beautifully embroidered cloak, I hope and pray that you are able to shed the bitterness, letting it fall from your shoulders like a heavy weight. It can’t be fun to carry around with you. It must be exhausting.

I pray for this.
Yes, I said “pray.”
You might hate that I do it;
you might laugh that I do it;
but I happen to think you are so very worth the prayers.

We all are.
xoxo