I went to bed with a headache
I woke up with a headache
I awoke to heartbreak.
O dear God, I am tired; aren’t you?
Aren’t you sick and tired of seeing the morning news about death, destruction, and violence? About human indecency and cruelty and depravity? About inaction and apathy and resignation?
As a person of faith, I’m a bit beyond prayers, and scripture citings, but I think it’s good that churches are opening up their doors so people can sit in consolation, light a candle, say something or say nothing or cry or be numb.
Every so often I go back and read the marvelous Earthsea series by Ursula LeGuin. In one of the books, spells have lost their power, and words have lost their meaning. There is a hole between life and death that must be filled in order for the power and the meaning to come back.
We live with a gaping hole somewhere. A tear in the fabric of kindness. A split seam that held together differing opinions. A rock was thrown through the evidently flimsy wall that kept us from acting on our basest instincts.
I have no hallelujahs left to give right now, no glories, no praise. Just numbed tears.
What will tomorrow bring?