December 18, 2012

God is with Us

“All is not well. All is broken, ruined, and wears the stain of our whoring. The earth groans, vacant eyes haunt would-be lovers, lead silences mere children—and we, clueless and helpless, fiddle as our city burns. Sons of Adam and daughters of Eve, doomed in the dark to grope about for another apple. Truth and light have run and now taunt us, always beyond our grasp, while half truths wait in shop windows for any who like things wrapped in pretty boxes.

It is not right. It is not well. How long, oh Lord, how long?”

I scribbled an earlier version of that a little over a year ago, and it feels especially poignant tonight. News of the worse kind has been ringing in our ears since Friday: 20 children murdered. I have no words, only the groan in my chest that echoes the Psalmist’s question: how long?