In you, Christ, I find my light, though it's awfully dark.
I pray for my sisters and brothers who are hurting unbearably tonight--that you would suffer with them, that you would stop their suffering, though I know you won't stop it all or even very much right now. It's more faith than I can muster, yet there's something in me that trusts you--or wants to so desperately that it resembles trust--despite it all, in the midst of it all, because of it all. I call out for you in rage and desperation and hope and doubt and tender love.
Call back to me, I ask. Call us out of our graves, like Lazarus. Weep a tear for us all again, and let us weep with you. Let's all weep together for this beauty and this mess. Then come, Lord Jesus, come and save us somehow, anyhow. And meanwhile show us how to save each other . . .
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