new life

The horror of it all.

If you're anything like me, this week has been a punch in the gut. It started with a bombing, followed by ricin-filled envelopes, followed by an explosion that killed more, and a manhunt that feels like a live action packed movie—except it's not a movie. It's real. And people are dying. spring

All of this while spring is bringing everything else back to life.

Do you feel it in your gut? Do you walk around feeling that cloud of frustration, sadness, and deep grief—even if you're miles away? Even when the T.V. isn't on? Did you wake up on Monday feeling off—even though the bomb hadn't detonated?

There's something to this. This collective feeling. Bearing this burden together—feeling it in your soul. To me it's nothing but evidence. Evidence that there is something more than what we see, feel, experience, or observe. There is something in the air or in the soul or in a dimension beyond us that moves something within us.

We feel it inside. And why would I feel it all the way here, in Tennessee, away from disaster and death, surrounded by new life and a new kitchen on the way?

It's because we're connected. And we're all in this fight together.

"For our struggle is not against flesh and blood, but against the rulers, against the authorities, against the powers of this dark world and against the spiritual forces of evil in the heavenly realms." Ephesians 6:12.

But there's promise of newness.

There's a promise that what is dead will come back to life.

There's a promise that evil will be ultimately and finally defeated. That though evil may strike our heel, the Prince of Peace will crush its head.

Thank God.