it breaks my heart
I heard the sirens as the emergency vehicles sped through the neighborhood. The commotion only heightened with the arrival of several helicopters. This is never good, I thought.
A couple blocks from my house is a small beach. Opposite a narrow channel of water leading to the great expanse of the James River, a more pristine beach beckons. Yesterday, two young men attempted a swim across the channel and lost their lives.
Divers found one of the drowning victims, and the search continues today for the remaining one. All of the community talks about how horrific the tragedy is and reminisces on past happenings in these waterways.
I rode my bike to the spot today where the divers prepared to do a new search. I noticed the extensive line of cars and people gathered. Not just onlookers, I assumed. Family.
I approached a few women and asked if I could pray with them. The victim’s mother, aunt and I joined faith and called upon the name of Jesus.
I reflected the strength of the mother and the aunt until I got on my bike and rode back up the hill to go home. My heart broke. It’s personal now.
I returned home and grieved over their current state of dismay. I pleaded with the Father to protect them from the evil one’s lie, God is not good.
In order to have our hearts break for what breaks the Father’s, we must go into the ugly places of suffering. We step into the chaos, but we bring the needed comfort and restoration of our loving and faithful heavenly Father.