Explosion at an Ariana Grande concert in Manchester, UK.
Word spreads as fans flee in confusion, terror, fear.
Hold your breath and hope it’s just a false alarm, an equipment malfunction perhaps.
And then we learn it’s what we feared.
A willful slaughter of fun-loving innocents.
Bloodshed and tragedy and weeping and despair…
And all the words just leave.
Hollow, is what I am. Every time this happens, this is what it feels like. (And this is what I think they feel like — until dread reality crashes in and they wake up.)
Because there are no words to describe or explain.
All the people — pundits, politicians, preachers — try to make sense of it. But all the words and feelings and thoughts just blur. There is no distinction.
We were not made to fathom these dark depths, to contain them, to grasp them.
This is death the world cannot contain. Their blood will cry out for eons and eons and forever. Their tears will scream across the immeasurable depths of space and pain the ears of extraterrestrials (if they are out there).
Neil Gaiman’s 2001 fantasy novel, American Gods, couldn’t have been more prescient when it was written. Now that the series is getting the small screen treatment, the clash of gods—mythical and modern—reminds us that there really is a war going on, and the battlefield is our hearts. Continue Reading
“Let not the wise man glory in his wisdom,
Let not the mighty man glory in his might,
Nor let the rich man glory in his riches;
But let him who glories glory in this,
That he understands and knows Me,
That I am the Lord,
exercising lovingkindness, judgment, and righteousness in the earth.
For in these I delight,” says the Lord.
For the first time in the history of history, people can live in their own virtual reality. No, I’m not talking about the Samsung Gear VR (which I’m hoping someone buys me for Christmas). I’m talking about the democratization of news that the internet allows. Continue Reading