Grief and Fire

I have felt grief in waves these last few weeks.

Almost three weeks ago, I was taking care of my niece when I got a text telling me Charlie Kirk had been shot. Before the day was through, we knew he had been assassinated. I then began to see the vile comments on social media roll in. I was outraged, devastated for the Kirk family, and filled with sorrow that the world has come to this: villainizing and murdering someone you disagree with. I couldn’t help but think of my small niece as I recalled the clips I’d seen of Kirk’s young daughter running into his arms. That little girl’s life will never be the same, and no child deserves to lose her daddy.

It’s okay to disagree, but it’s not okay to let hatred reign like this. It’s not okay to behave violently toward anyone else because they hold different beliefs.

It was about this time of year that someone I knew ended her own life. It greatly pains me to know she made that choice. I am heartbroken for her family, who was robbed of the years they were supposed to have with her. And I am angry, because I saw the way some people mistreated her. I heard the gossip and saw the eye rolls when my friend walked into the room, and I imagine she did, too. I am deeply grieved, because her life can’t be brought back. She was not always treated with kindness, and there were consequences.

It’s okay not to like everybody, but it’s not okay to devalue one of God’s creations. It’s not okay to mistreat people.

It was also this time of year when a friend’s teenage son took his own life. The sound of that mother’s despair echoes in my memory, and I am filled with sorrow that my friend will never get to watch her son become an adult or provide her with grandchildren.

It is not okay that the enemy stole a son from a mother. It is not okay that he took any of these lives prematurely.

My grief feels similar in all three situations. Each time, a life was taken unjustly, and I wish with everything in me that I could have done something to change the outcome. I couldn’t, and though the hope of heaven prevails, the permanence of death weighs on me.

So does the desire for change. A fire, not for vengeance, but for righteousness, justice, and restoration burns inside of me. I want a reformation of kindness and truth. I want us as humans – all of us flawed, yet none of us a lost cause as long as we’re still breathing – to learn something so tragedies like these never happen again. I want good fruit to emerge from tragic loss. I want hope to rise up and darkness to flee because there is a light so bright it cannot be dimmed.

I want a Jesus revolution. Jesus is the answer. To everything. He is hope, he is life, he is courage, he is strength, he is forgiveness, he is peace, he is joy, he is the Healer, he is the truth, and, maybe most importantly, he is love. His love is so great for every one of us, even the worst of sinners, that he died to save us all. Anyone who chooses to believe in him is promised eternal life with the Lover of our souls.

Push back the darkness with love this week. Love like you’ve never loved before. Speak God’s truth boldly. Forgive. Bless. Pray. Obey.

Many of you, like me, feel forever changed by the events that have taken place in the world this month. Or maybe you’ve been forever changed by the pain in your personal world. Let the pain propel you to make a positive difference in someone else’s life. Now is the time to let the holy fire God has placed in us help change the world.

I pray the God-given fire within you never dies, and that you fulfill every purpose he has placed inside you before you were even born. 🙏🏼🔥

He is with you, and now is the time to rise up!