24 Days
Oh, how human it is to want to move on. To scroll past the sorrow.
It has been 24 days since the floodwaters came and lives were lost in the Hill Country—a place so many of us hold dear. The Camp Mystic campers would have been picked up from second term over the weekend, on Saturday, July 26th - with big smiles and endless rejoicing to see their parents.
Oh, how human it is to want to move on. To scroll past the sorrow. To feel weary of the grief. But I would gently challenge you—do not look away just yet.
Consider purchasing something simple—a bracelet, a shirt, a painting. Not just as a keepsake, but as a daily reminder. A reminder to pray for the families who are still waking up in the depths of mourning. Your compassion matters. Your voice lifted to God makes a difference. "The prayers of a righteous person are powerful and effective." (James 5:16)
My heart still weeps with those who weep. As Scripture says, "For everything there is a season… a time to mourn, and a time to dance." Right now is still a time for sorrow. But joy will come. The sun will rise again. And when it does, may we be found faithful in how we loved during the dark.
Today, I am still accepting original artwork donations for the upcoming auction in honor of the lives lost. I am also collecting handwritten letters for Tweety and the Eastland family. If you feel called to create or to write, please reach out.
These offerings matter.
And may these words from Isaiah bring you both comfort and conviction:
“In returning and rest you shall be saved; in quietness and trust shall be your strength… you shall weep no more. He will surely be gracious to you at the sound of your cry; as soon as He hears it, He answers you.
And though the Lord give you the bread of adversity and the water of affliction, yet your Teacher will not hide Himself anymore. Your eyes shall see your Teacher.
And your ears shall hear a word behind you, saying, ‘This is the way, walk in it.’
…The Lord binds up the brokenness of His people and heals the wounds He inflicted.”
(Isaiah 30)
There is still a holy work to be done in this season of grief. Let us not rush past it. Let us meet it with prayer, beauty, and love.