When Love Breaks.
We had a great Thanksgiving celebration with our family. It was just an all around good day. We had no idea it would be the last day we would spend with grandpa. He fell that night, broke his leg, and at 89 years old with a bad heart, couldn’t recover. He died late that Friday night. As I walked into my grandparents apartment early Saturday morning I met my grandma with a hug and we both wept. It felt like I was holding one of my girls in my arms, consoling her. Love runs so deep. It is so overwhelming. They had spent over 55 years loving one another, and now their love is a story of what was. It was a painful and celebratory weekend as we mourned the loss of someone we loved so much. After a few days with my grandma, it was time to return home and attempt to get back to the “normal routine”. As my parents, sister, Sara, and I walked down the steps from grandma’s apartment, I was overwhelmed by her new “normal”. She was going to walk back into an apartment that she had only known as a couple, with his and her chairs, coffee cups, and bath towels…only it wasn’t his and hers now. It was hers. It was an overwhelming feeling. When love walks into a room, the whole room takes it in, and when it is separated, the whole room weeps. It was this picture that I was drawn to last Friday morning when the news feed flashed across my iPhone about the devastation in Newtown. It was this emotion that overwhelmed me this morning as I listened to 26 bells and a moment of silence on the radio for the 26 lives that were taken from this horrific event. So many parents are walking back into houses that had toys, rooms, books, and Christmas presents for a beautiful little life that isn’t with them anymore. This loss must not become a political platform. It is not a microphone for pro-life propaganda. It is not an NRA vs Obama fight. It is a devastating, unnatural, overwhelming loss that demands redemption. My grandpa lived a full life, and at times it is comforting to know that he had 89 years to write his story. The death of these children and their teachers seems so unnatural, unsettling and unfair. Instead of writing their own legacies, it will be left to humanity to write it for them. The legacy of the children and teachers in Newtown CT will either be written by those who invite the redemption of this tragedy to transform the way they experience humanity, or by those who value their personal comfort above their conviction.
Redemption entered this world as it wept for it’s children.
“Then was fulfilled what was spoken by the prophet Jeremiah:
“A voice was heard in Ramah,
weeping and loud lamentation,
Rachel weeping for her children;
she refused to be comforted, because they are no more.” Matthew 1:17-18
This Christmas we would do well to weep again, because we know this world is broken, infected, and destructive. Yet, redemption was born, he lived as truth and grace, and He conquered death. Not only the just deserved death of life that had run its course, but death that is unfair and unjust. He reconciles the unreconcilable. Maybe transformation begins when we choose to lament the loss of those who are with us no more and to seek the birth of redemption.