This past few days have been filled with needless blood shed and death which serves no purpose other than to shock us and continue to numb us.  Whatever the source of discontent – if it be mental illness, hatred, brainwashing, whatever – it is pointless.  Our first instinct is to blame the weapon, but is it not the one who uses the weapon who commits the crime?  It seems we have become so consumed with the instrument of death, that we are not addressing the reason for the rage.

I have no knowledge of the inner workings of the human brain, but it seems to me that over the past few decades, we’ve become a country that will blame anything but the perpetrator.  We pass the buck so it makes us believe that we’re not responsible for our own actions.  The actions themselves are blamed because of a deranged mind – a false ideology – confusion of what is right and wrong and lack of self control.

Somewhere along the line, we have morphed into a society which holds a lack of moral fiber.  We have no one to blame but ourselves for the condition of our world.  We’re a product of our sin.  No one can claim perfection before God, without the saving grace of Him alone.

We’ll be hearing all kinds of theories on why and how these acts occurred.  There will be an uproar over gun control again.  There will be anger and hate and blame, but there will be no solution to this problem as long as we remain indifferent.  The basic tenets of humanity – value of human life – loving others as ourselves – helping each other get through the difficulties of living – turning to God, the One who loved so much that He shed blood to save us from an eternity in hell – must return.  We are all responsible for each other and I fear we’ve fallen a lifetime away from that.

In 2016 I wrote this after the horrible terrorist attacks in Paris.  This time streets are different.  The location is within our own boundaries.  The lives taken are those of brothers, sister, sons, daughters, mothers and fathers who were part of someone else’s life.  They can never be replaced.

Pools of crimson stain the streets.

People running, hiding, covering themselves and those near them,

Fear ensues, then pain, followed by anger and rage,

Faces and heads shrouded in black,

Too cowardly to show themselves,

Thoughts of waging a righteous war against those who don’t believe as they do,

Brainwashed into thinking they are doing this for their god.

Misdirected, searching, groping for something to believe in – something to hang on to,

Do they find peace in causing others pain or in ending lives?

Where is the righteousness?

Blood flows from a beaten, smitten corpse,

Hanging on an instrument of torture,

This One not taking life, but giving it through His own precious blood.

That is righteousness, bought and paid for the ugliest of us.

Refreshing, cleansing rain falls softly on an eager earth,

Thirsting for relief and longing for renewal and rebirth.

The tears of God bring respite for the dying soul,

He gave His only Son to fill a gaping hole,

The hole that widens every day,

When we forget to turn to Him and pray,

As branches dance and lightening fills the air,

I think of Him who takes away each care.

We see the need for God’s power to inspire us once again,

To cleanse our hearts and wash souls in His refreshing rain.