Tonight I mourn.

At the end of last month I got a text from my dad saying that my grandmother was hospitalized. She had been mugged waiting for her church bus to pick her up for Sunday service. The driver, a pastor of the church, found her on the ground and carried her to her apartment. She had to have hip replacement surgery last week — not easy for a woman almost 90. A couple days later my dad called me. I naturally thought he was going to update me on my grandmother’s condition. Instead he told me that a family member had been murdered. I hung up the phone in disbelief. I had just come out of my own personal time of grieving loss a couple weeks prior.

In Ecclesiastes it reads, “There is a time for everything, and a season for every activity under the heavens.” I am in a season of mourning. My heart feels heavy as I try to understand and take in painful news after painful news.

Tragedy is all around us. Turn on the radio, go on the internet, flip on the T.V. We are surrounded by it and to an extent, if I am honest, I think my heart is hardened by it at times. There’s a lot to take in — domestically and globally. It’s too much. But when tragedy makes its way into your life, you can’t run away from it.

Tonight I am at a loss for words.

When evil seems to win, what do I do? I am reminded again and again how fragile life is and what a broken people we are. My hope comes not from just thinking positive thoughts, but it comes from knowing that even in the saddest moments of loss and pain, Jesus is here.

He is here and he weeps. He mourns. And he allows us to weep too.

Today I mourn for loss. For pain. For the judgments that I had passed. Today I mourn for the long months ahead. Today I mourn for a lost soul. Today I mourn for the things that have been taken away.

Tonight I mourn and I take comfort in knowing that Jesus wept over loss too (John 11:35).