I wonder what the world was like before it broke?
A world whose funniest don’t lose the will to live.
A world whose people groups don’t haggle terms with deadly force.
A world without hostages and refugees. Without shootings and riots. Without all this wretched pain, splattering the front page with black-and-white bloodshed.
But perhaps a better question is not what the world once was–or might of been–but rather what will it be? Without hurt and pain and hatred and tears?
No one quite knows what that world will look like, or even if it will ever be. As to the when, well, that is up for guesses too. But, despite the grayness of it all, one’s perspective on that simple issue fuels the worldview. It is that answer that breeds (or kills) hope. It is that answer that gets us up out of bed or puts us forlornly back into it.
So when the world wobbles on its axis, when pictures of dying children flood Twitter and talk of the latest news sits heavy in the chest, where do you turn? Where do you find hope in a ever-maddening existence?
We know all the ways it is broken. How will it be put back together?