“O that my head were a spring of water, and my eyes a fountain of tears, so that I might weep day and night for the slain of my poor people!” (Jeremiah 9:1)
Hearts once again struggle for words that will not come easily. Grief brought about by another senseless act of violence at the hands of a teenager with guns has once again settled heavily in our spirit like “a voice heard in Ramah, mourning and great weeping, Rachel weeping for her children and refusing to be comforted, because they are no more.” (Jeremiah 31:15)
Will the tears be enough?
Will the prayers be enough?
Will statements and media sound bites be enough?
Will the countless social media posts be enough?
Will time once again slip away while we debate what must be done, attempting to brace ourselves for the next tragedy? Enough rhetoric already.
“My tears have been my food day and night, while they say to me all day long, ‘Where is your God?’” (Psalm 42:3)
Will the silence of children’s voices, once vibrant with so much life ahead of them, or brown bodies lying lifeless in grocery store aisles, or the taking of lives in houses of worship, be enough? Will these tragedies linger long enough in our collective tears to remove the fear of what it might cost to follow our words with actions? The price of our lack of will has already cost too much.
We must bear this hurt collectively; it is all of ours. “Is there no balm in Gilead? Is there no physician there?” (Jeremiah 8:22) What if the great physician, Jesus, the prince of peace, our peace in the midst of the storm, has already diagnosed the sickness and written the prescription, but we refuse to take the medicine? What if what awaits is our courage to do whatever is necessary to transform the question mark of our current laments of “why?” into the exclamation point of life and hope strong enough to lead us into necessary change.
NO MORE! ENOUGH IS ENOUGH. Come, Lord Jesus, come! Lord, have mercy. Christ, have mercy.