It was with a heavy heart that I stepped outside yesterday morning to work on a patch of weeds. My head was swirling with anger and despair, and I felt inadequate to process the ramifications of a country gone crazy. There is nowhere in this world that we can find truth.
I don’t pay much attention to the news—don’t judge me. I’m a reasonably intelligent woman, but it seems everyone has an agenda. Truth is whatever gets the highest ratings or appeases broadcast sponsorship. My husband taps into the BBC, because it appears they don’t have a bias here in the United States. Of course, that could be false, as well.
I am sick over the unnecessary death of a young man. I’m disgusted over how many people are using his death as a means to their personal agendas. It may be politically motivated or racially motivated, or even criminally motivated. Looters are happy to use it to their advantage, as well.
Some may say George Floyd shouldn’t have resisted arrest. I can guarantee you, as a white female, my life wouldn’t have been taken if I’d been in his shoes. It’s semantics. The Nazis were quick to blame the Jews for their own deaths, too. I do believe George’s death will be avenged by God, but I doubt that brings his family any comfort—anymore than it brought me comfort when my son’s molester (and the molester of many other young boys) avoided imprisonment by fleeing to another country. Sadly, it wasn’t financially feasible to go after him.
No one rioted that injustice. It barely even made the news.
Then there’s the coronavirus. Yeah, I finally brought it up after more than two months of avoiding the topic. There are people suffering horribly—financial loss, despair, fear… Conspiracy theories abound. It’s the fault of the Chinese. No, it’s a political move. It’s President Trump’s fault. No, it’s the Democrat’s fault. I don’t dare look at Twitter, and Facebook is a little sketchy these days, too. I used to think I had the gift of discernment, but there are layers too thick to process. It’s like a mystery novel—the moment you figure out who done it, the author throws in another plot twist. The only Author who knows the truth isn’t revealing it yet.
It’s one tragedy after another. I know it should come as no surprise—I’ve read Revelation several times. I know God’s in control. We may not win the battle, but there is no doubt we will win the war. As Billy Graham said, “I’ve read the last page of the Bible, and it’s going to turn out all right.” I put my faith and trust in the Lord. His is the only truth worth seeking.
So, I will stay in prayer, asking what I can do, because I don’t have a clue. In the meantime, I will take comfort in some simple pleasures:
There are more worms in the small patch of the yard I cleared yesterday for a flower bed than I’ve ever seen in one place. Worms are good.
I bought a book of easy American pop songs for the piano and will work on something new. Although my husband would never say so, he’s pretty tired of the songs I’ve been playing from the John Thompson Beginning Easiest Piano Course.
I will wrap my mind around Christmas this week—yes, Christmas on June 1st—so I can finish up my Christmas novella.
I will bask in my sweet daughter’s success—she was admitted into the LSU program for Master of Library and Information Science. Nikki, with her short-term memory and ongoing issues with traumatic brain injury, is not letting her disability slow her down.
And I will allow the tragedies of these days help me to create a new series that I pray will bring others hope when there seems to be none.
