Glancing out the window into the gathering dusk, it catches my eye. Just beneath the outdoor light, I see the star we hang every summer, imprinted with the American flag.
On the cement slab below that star, bright-red geraniums bloom with abandon. A rain shower has moved through, weighting every vivid blossom, every green and vibrant leaf. On this day of national sorrow, it seems that even heaven is weeping, and the flowers on The Three, they bear the witness.
Tonight I have no great nuggets of wisdom to share. No deep, insightful words to explain the unexplainable suffering in this world. When heartache marches in, in time with flying bullets, there is nothing left to say. There’s just a “knowing.”
This, then, is what I know…
I know that even though I cannot prevent all evil, I can carry the Good. I can choose the Good, and I can do Good to my fellow man. The corner of the world in which I live will be a better place if I choose what’s Good.
I know that storms will come, that rain will fall. I know that some storms will bring destruction, but with the eyes of faith, I can see a brilliant morning on the horizon. Ever and always, morning will come.
I know that no matter how things look on this day of national travail, a Light still shines. Just as the light that hangs over our star, just so the Light spreads far and wide, from sea to shining sea. With the eyes of faith, I can see that, too.
I know that evil will not hold sway forever. I know that good and righteousness and justice and love will reign one day. I know that heaven is real, that God is good, that this earth isn’t all that there is.
If you don’t know these things for yourself, I’ll hold the Light for you. I will pray that one day, you’ll know it, too.
With love for Texas today,
Rhonda, the small, caffeinated American mom
Note: Those young men holding the flag behind me in the photo? They are three of my four sons. They and the children they will have are reason enough for me to pray and work and work and pray for America’s ultimate good.