The Light Has Overcome the World

Our hearts are broken.

We cry because we know their names.

Hallie.

Evelyn.

William.

Mike.

Cindy.

Katherine.

In the faces of those children, we see the faces of our children, our nieces and nephews, the kids we teach at church, the sons and daughters of beloved friends. We cry out with open hands and broken hearts because it happened here, in a tiny Christian school where children shouldn’t have to be afraid to go to school. We cry; we scream; we wail—because there’s something wrong in a world where children die in such violence. In a place where they should feel safe. Where teachers and mentors lose their lives on a regular Monday morning.

My heart is broken.

For the mothers who stand in a child’s room and see the signs that she was there and know she won’t come home again. For the fathers who cry out in anguish. For the aunts and uncles, the teachers and mentors. For a city and a nation that sits in shock and grief and anger.

I’m not here to debate politics or laws or picking a side. I’m here because I mourn. Because two days later I still can’t believe this happened here. Because every cell within me knows that death is wrong.

Then comes the still small voice.

“When I am afraid, I will put my trust in you.” Psalm 56:3.

“I have overcome the world.” John 16:33

“He will wipe every tear from their eyes, and there will be no more death or sorrow or crying or pain. All these things are gone forever. Look, I am making everything new!” Rev. 21:4-5

I pray fervently that this will be the last time we experience the gut-punch news of another school shooting. I hope for the day when we are willing to work together to heal the deep wounds we’ve inflicted upon one another and the anguish and hatred we lobby at each other. But more than that I long for the day when my Savior—who knows the depth of violence, horror and the awful acts we are capable of—wipes away all the tears I’ve ever cried, even the ones that fall as I type these words.

No more death.

No more sorrow.

No more crying or pain.

No more Uvalde, Columbine, or Nashville’s Covenant School.

No more.

But until then, I live in a world that’s becoming increasingly darker, and I’m not sure what I can do to change any of it.

Except to live in love.

To shine light into the darkness.

To point to the goodness of God when the darkness threatens.

Because the darkness cannot overcome the light.

And the Light has overcome the world.