They are lined up on the ground, with white dirty sheets covering their faces. Most are 4 maybe 5 years old. My son turns 4 in two weeks, I cant even imagine. Some are missing legs, some are missing arms, some have unzipped pants. Im numb. I do not take my eyes off the screen. I stare trying to concentrate on every emotion I am feeling. I imagine, I judge, I Pray. Others walk past me looking over my shoulder and look away quick with disgust mumbling something like "whats wrong with the news" and "gross, why are they showing this to us" but I continue to stare. This is not a demonic movie, this is not poor journalism, this is brave, extrodinary journalism because the man behind the camera knows that our comfortable society needs to see this. As I get Mason his cereal and make him recite his Cubbies verse for the week, our borthers and sisters in Syria and Indonesia and Egypt and so many other places around the world, are praying silently while grieving over their babies right now. In worship sunday mornings we sing "break our hearts for what breaks yours" so on this monday morning I'm going to look, long and hard until nothing makes sense to me and I'm so heavy with devastation that I can't understand how God can love this messy, dirty, shameful place. Such mercy, such holiness, how great is our God.
Revelation6:9-10 And when he had opened the fifth seal, I saw under the altar the souls of them, that were slain for the word of God, and for the testimony which they held.
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