Aurora.

Sometimes you just need to sit in it. You need to read the names of the victims and see their pictures and read too many details about what happened.

You need to live it through in your own small way, just to catch a glimpse of it.

On days like this where the lives of people were taken for no reason, we can either ignore it because it wasn't anyone we know, or we can acknowledge that just because it wasn't us or someone we know, it was still people that we are connected to. The people that died early this morning in Denver were people that many of us actually would be connected with through friends of friends of friends. Children, young people figuring out life the same way we are, and people who maybe were a little further along in life. Whether we knew them or not, that doesn't make it any less significant.

I was working all day today and although I saw on my phone that something had happened, I didn't know any details of what exactly went on. And so when I got home and saw the news and saw the video and saw his picture...it hit me.

It hit me like it was someone that I know. Like they were people that I care about. Because they are people. And people are precious to the God who made each one of us.

The God who knows more details about each individual than the nightly news could ever provide.

And the God who created them hates the sin that is in this world that caused this to happen.

Life is just so sad sometimes. It doesn't make sense and it hurts and it is just plain scary. They were going to the movies. Up to this point, I have never thought twice about doing that same thing. But now? Going to the movies will feel different. Because evil doesn't have boundaries. Evil does not stop at the doors of a place that is meant for recreation and save its deeds for a scene of war. Evil does not draw a line of what cannot be touched before it enters a school or a church or a family's home. Evil permeates this world.

Things like this have happened before, and inevitably will happen again. What matters is what we do with it. What matters is that we spend a little time remembering the people who were lost, and grieving for that loss. Even though we didn't lose that person necessarily, we all have lost some peace. Because it could have been us just as easily. We need to recognize that and consider it. We need to let the stories that come out touch us, because they should. These were real people, real friends and sons and daughters and brothers and sisters that were lost.

More than that, this should be a reminder that this world is not the home that was intended for us. And on days like this, I find myself thinking more certainly, "Jesus, come quickly."