This is not the post I had planned for this weekend. I have been unable to post anything since Friday. The pain is too great. Such senseless tragedy, in what is meant to be a season of joy. Precious children. I have two great-granddaughters a year or so younger than those slaughtered babies. It hits far too close to home, for all of us. I am not one to talk about my faith on my blog. I firmly believe that each of us has the right to believe as they choose, to worship, or not, according to their own light. I have no desire to push my own belief on anyone else, nor to offend those who do not share my beliefs, or who choose to worship differently, or not at all. The only thing I believe is universal is our ability to love others, regardless of external things, or varied religions, or different cultures and customs. Love. That is the one thing that can, and should, unite us, every one of us, with no exception, no exclusion, no separation, that one is Christian, one is Jewish, one is Buddhist, one is Hindu, one worships the purple-eyed bullfrog. It doesn't matter. Just love. Having said all that, I do wish to share with you an email that I received today. It speaks of Jesus, and the Story as laid forth in the Bible, but for those who do not hold Jesus nor the Bible sacred, I think the point is the same. It speaks to my heart in this time of darkness and grief. I hope it will speak to yours.
A Christmas Prayer
By Max Lucado
It’s a good thing you were born at night. This world sure seems dark. I have a good eye for silver linings. But they seem dimmer lately.
These killings, Lord. These children, Lord. Innocence violated. Raw evil demonstrated.
The whole world seems on edge. Trigger-happy. Ticked off. We hear threats of chemical weapons and nuclear bombs. Are we one button-push away from annihilation?
Your world seems a bit darker this Christmas. But you were born in the dark, right? You came at night. The shepherds were nightshift workers.
The Wise Men followed a star. Your first cries were heard in the shadows. To see your face, Mary and Joseph needed a candle flame. It was dark. Dark with
Herod’s jealousy. Dark with Roman oppression. Dark
with poverty. Dark with violence.
Herod went on a rampage, killing babies. Joseph took you and your mom into Egypt. You were an immigrant before you were a Nazarene.
Oh, Lord Jesus, you entered the dark world of your day. Won’t you enter ours? We are weary of bloodshed. We, like the wise men, are looking for a star. We, like the shepherds, are kneeling at a manger.
This Christmas, we ask you, heal us, help us, be born anew in us.
I wish each of you a sense of peace, and I wish you love.