I hope, LORD. My whole being hopes, and I wait for God’s promise. My whole being waits for my Lord—more than the night watch waits for morning; yes, more than the night watch waits for morning!” (Psalm 130:1-2, 5-6 CEB)
Today I stared at a picture of kindergarten students in tears being lead away from a nightmare. Tears poured down my face, and my body shook with grief. I cry out to you from the depths, Lord. How long must we wait?
There is so much wrong with our world. There is so much pain. There are so many people hurting. Sometimes I feel like it would be easier to just close my eyes and hide. I cry out to you from the depths, Lord. How long must we wait?
All I want to do is go to my daughters. I want to take my oldest from her kindergarten. Hold her. Smell her hair. Brush her cheek. Fit them both on my lap and wrap them in my arms and never let go. I cry out to you from the depths, Lord. How long must we wait?
The sadness of this day seems magnified by the season. But there is no need to magnify this kind of pain. It is as big as we can handle on its own. For me, it is Christmas that makes endurance possible. When the world tells me again that there is no hope, I cling to the last strand I’ve got. There is hope in the Lord. There is hope in a baby. There is hope for light in darkness, and hope for healing in the midst of despair.
Still, I cry out. I cry out of the depths. My tears flow. My body trembles, and I wonder, “how long, Lord? How long?”