I feel incredibly inadequate to write anything at all about the recent tragedy in Florida.  And yet, my heart bleeds words…

I keep thinking about the Mamas and Daddy’s…Brothers and Sisters.  Friends, Lovers, Husbands and Wives.  Loved ones of those massacred and held hostage in the early Sunday morning hours.  Entire worlds turned upside down.  Souls pierced with grief.

I keep thinking about my own dear friends in the LGBT community, wondering how they must feel in light of this most recent nightmare.  I’ve sat with them at dinner tables and listened as they re-lived stories of hate and ignorance.  And now this.  Were they able to sleep last night?

I keep thinking about the women who wear black from head to toe and the men they are married to…the little children living in their home.  Are people making eye contact with them today?  Are whispers following their footsteps?

I keep thinking about the parents of the young man responsible for the largest mass shooting our country has known.  Perhaps questioning where ‘they went wrong,’ as they must now learn to live life without their son.

I keep thinking of those who, at this very moment are debating the right to bear arms.  The common man preaching from a pulpit of bullets.  While others still are pleading for control…stricter policies…and for the right to live unafraid of the machinery living next door.

My head swims with thoughts while my heart swims with tears.

And social media has exploded with rants and arguments, along with images of rainbows and candlelight vigils.  I personally prefer the latter.

We all have opinions and beliefs-and by the grace of God we can speak freely in this country.  As opposed to those on the opposite side of the world, currently silenced by dictator law.

But I couldn’t help but think earlier, as I came across a back and forth dialogue surrounding the ‘real heart of this issue’ (as referenced)…are we missing the point?

The point being love.  Isn’t the point always, always love?

I am no expert in love.  But I know the One who is.

Mentally flipping through scripture pages, I can’t recall an instance when Jesus wasn’t love personified.  Love was His mission, His motivator and a very part of His DNA.

And if we, believers “have been seized by the power of a great affection,” as N. Gordon Cosby so eloquently says it, shouldn’t love be our mission and motivation too?

Love serves.  Love prays.  Love mourns.  Love reaches out.  Regardless of whether or not a lifestyle, orientation or religion is understood or agreed with….love loves.  Period.

What would this world look like if we simply loved more?  What if we practiced more of this “great affection” and less judgment?  Less conflict?  Less finger-pointing?

I can’t speak for you dear friend.  But at the end of my life, I don’t want to be known as the loudest…the one who had to be right…or the one who looked away.

I want my Father to see me and say these three words: “She loved well.”