An Open Letter to Moore, OK

My heart is crushed for you. 

I'm 1,400 miles away, but I can feel your pain and hear your cries. 

It just doesn't seem right moving on with my normal day while you fight for your lives and struggle to survive. 

It doesn't seem right to sit on my couch and watch the television, to eat my breakfast in my comfortable home while you're stranded and homeless with nowhere to go.

It didn't seem right to crawl into bed and ((try to)) sleep last night while you were sleeping on concrete floors, cots, chairs, maybe even without a roof over your head. I can imagine you were probably wide awake thinking about where you'll go and what you'll do when the sun rises again, afraid of learning even more tragic news with the dawning of a new day. 

It doesn't seem right for me to get another day of life when the lives of innocent children were claimed by this tragedy. Oh, how I wish they could have lived to see the beautiful world they lived in. My heart is broken for their families who have lost and are lost. 

I can't even begin to imagine what you must have experienced in the last hours. Trauma, horror, tragedy, loss, fear, pain, grief... It just doesn't seem right. 

But Moore, there is hope.

As hard as it is to hold on today, I urge you...don't let go. You aren't forgotten, you aren't abandoned. God is with you and for you. When you feel like giving up, fix your eyes on Jesus and push a little harder.

I'm praying for you. A lot of people are praying for you. And our prayers are powerful and effective. ((James 5:16)) We're fighting for you. We're on your side.

Hold on, Moore. Hold on tightly.