Susan LaffertyThis past week, I sit numb. Shaken. Shocked by sheer brutality.
And cry out for the ones who can’t breathe.
Weep for those with necks slammed against asphalt under the knee of racism. Relentless, insidious racism. Again and again.
The snake slithers. Just beneath the surface of society. Often hidden in the dark. Feeding pride and arrogance. Fear. Prejudice.
Injustice.
Storm. Sometimes it comes out of nowhere. Fierce. Sudden. Unpredictable.
The recent tornado in Tennessee roared through. In the middle of the night. Unexpected. Devastating.
Today COVID19 continues spreading across the globe at a rapid pace. Insidious. Unsettling. Unknown.
And traveling along under the radar, another kind of storm. Often unspoken. Filtering through conversations and across the airwaves.
Fear.
The candle flame moves. Flickers. Casting large shadows on the walls. I sit in the edges of its light.
All the celebrations of last week give way to winter quiet. Time to remember and reflect. Looking towards the future.
In past seasons there was little time for this quiet space. A long one, anyway. The season of raising three young children comes to mind.
Even then, the hurry in my soul needed me to sit. Rest. Looking to the One who knows my days.
