It Doesn't Feel Like Christmas

When an evil villain breaks into an elementary school and takes twenty-something lives viscously, it doesn't feel like Christmas.

Justin and I were out of town on Friday when we heard of the horrific events in Connecticut. We had arrived earlier that day and were looking forward to celebrating our tenth anniversary. As soon as the tragic news reached our ears, I longed to hold my three precious children so tightly. I cried for the mothers and fathers and other family members who lost loved ones.

It didn't feel like Christmas or an anniversary or anything worth celebrating.

I struggled with feelings of guilt. How can I just lie here under the sun in paradise and relax while these people are suffering? How can I reconcile my current state with theirs? How can I justify what happened to these school officials and small children in my mind?

These questions went unanswered.

Then, the news kept pouring in as we vacationed. We heard stories of hope, encouragement, forgiveness, and love in the Newtown community. For the first time in a long time, I saw positive media coverage; I heard our president deliver an amazing speech; and I saw news reporters at a loss for words.

It was then I knew for certain it didn't feel like Christmas whatsoever. God was using this terrible circumstance to bring glory to His name. And that's not like Christmas. That's like the cross.

It definitely doesn't feel like Christmas. It feels like Calvary where the Innocent was slain.