The headlines tear to shreds my peaceful Advent journey. A small child is senselessly murdered.
God, where were you on that playground? God, you whose eyes are on the sparrow, who sees and knows everything, where were you when she cried out, was beaten, tormented and thrown away?
It is unthinkable and my heart bleeds for the brokenhearted loved ones whose life will never be the same. I look for the “small sign of God” and can’t seem to find it through my weeping.
I return to the writing of Ann Weems who gives voice to anguish.
“Anger and alleluias careen around within me, sometimes colliding. Lamenting and laughter sit side by side in a heart that yearns for the peace that passes understanding. Those who believe in the midst of their weeping will know where I stand.
In the quiet times this image comes to me: Jesus weeping. Jesus wept,and in his weeping,
he joined himself forever
to those who mourn.
He stands now throughout all time,
this Jesus weeping
with his arms about the weeping ones:
‘Blessed are those who mourn,
for they shall be comforted.’
He stands with the mourners,
for his name is God-with-us.
Jesus wept.
‘Blessed are those who weep, for they shall be comforted.’ Someday. Someday God will wipe the tears from their eyes.
In the godforsaken, obscene quicksand of life,
there is a deafening alleluia
rising from the souls
of those who weep,
and of those who weep with those who weep.
If you watch, you will see
the hand of God
putting the stars back in their skiesone by one.”(Psalms of Lament)

Holy Infant Jesus, your tears are joined to mine. I hear the alleluias.

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