The Shared Weight of Tragedy
- Lindsay Allen
- Jul 9
- 6 min read
Updated: Jul 14
Tragedies bring feelings. Feelings bring questions. Questions bring answers. Answers bring hope. The recent tragedy in central Texas has weighed heavy on my heart. Viewing the barrage of photographs that depicted joyful, beautiful young girls who were lost in the flood relentlessly drove the sinking weight of despair deeper into the pit of my stomach. It’s a weight that is hard to shake.
Why does it feel so heavy? As I have reflected on this question, I have identified five shared feelings that this tragedy revealed. Each feeling points to a truth that reveals a hidden hope.
We all feel that it shouldn’t be this way.
When the news headline dropped, the shock was immediate and long-lasting. This kind of thing is never expected and never wanted, but sadly, it is repeated over and over again in human history. We see brokenness throughout history, across the globe, and in our own homes and hearts. The mere recognition of brokenness points to a state of unbrokenness. Scripture has an answer for this. In the book of Genesis, the account of creation is detailed, and upon completion, it is described as good and very good. Then, just a few verses later, a new descriptor is used... “not good.” What was the first not good?
God declared it was “not good for man to be alone.” (Genesis 2:18) God created humans for community with himself and one another.
Once Eve was created to solve the problem of Adam being alone, it didn’t take long for brokenness to become reality. Adam and Eve chose to reject God’s Word and eat the fruit God told them would bring death. Communion with one another and with God had been broken. They immediately felt the need to cover and hide. Ever since then, we have felt the weight of the curse, as generation after generation has chosen death. After their first sin, God explained to Adam and Eve that men, women, and even the earth would be cursed because of sin. We see evidence of that still today.
The truth is the world is, in fact, broken.
We all feel it could have been our little girl.
I have an 8-year-old daughter who loves church camp. She has a beautiful smile with a few missing teeth and adorable little freckles on her nose and cheeks. I call them my kissing targets. She loves crafting and having her hair braided and playing with friends. Several of the pictures looked strikingly like my little girl. I’m sure I am not the only one who has hugged my kids tighter this week, especially my little girl. I have found myself looking at her face thinking, “Thank you, God, it wasn’t her.” It wasn’t my little girl, but I would have had no control if it were. That’s what panics us. No control. News like this brings new “what if’s” into my mind. It can be paralyzing. In our modern Western culture, we have believed in an illusion of control.
Each time I read a historical biography, I am reminded of how removed our culture is from destruction and death. Many biographies just casually mention deaths of siblings from common diseases, deaths of babies and mothers in childbirth, deaths of husbands in war, or deaths of young adults from things like falling down the stairs or off of wagons. For most of the world throughout most of history, destruction and death have been experienced on a regular basis. The real epiphany is that for whatever reason, God has extended tremendous common grace to us in that these things are not a part of our everyday lives.
Matthew 5:45 says, “He [God] makes his sun rise on the evil and on the good, and sends rain on the just and on the unjust.”
None of us is exempt from the reach of sin’s touch of death, but thank God, all of us also experience God’s good graces in that we are not always experiencing death and destruction continually.
The truth is God intervenes in our brokenness more than we realize.
We all feel the need to ask “Why?”
We need a reason. We need to know what went wrong so we can fix it and not fall victim to similar tragedies. We want to build better warning systems and stronger buildings. While better warning systems and stronger buildings are worth building, they cannot ensure complete safety. We cannot outsmart and outwork the effects of sin. I think the “why” question reveals an important truth. The very fact that we ask why lends to our deep belief that there is a cause. Why do we believe that? We believe that because our experience teaches us that. These thoughts have been explored by great minds, such as Aristotle, who reasoned that there must be an “Unmoved Mover,” and Thomas Aquinas, who famously determined that God is the “Uncaused Cause.”
The truth is, effects have causes.
We all feel a desire to help.
One of the first responses we have after the shock wears off is to ask, “What can I do?” We want to do something to help make it better. It is why money is raised, volunteers are commissioned, and donations are sent. I know a sweet young mom who lives near the Guadalupe River. She shared how her family’s land has quickly become a resource site for first responders. Through a ministry organization called Mercy Chefs, she and her mother have been able to feed and encourage hundreds of rescue workers as they tackle the daunting tasks a disaster like this brings. For some, it is the overwhelming desire to give to meet tangible needs. For others, it is the desire to write cards or letters of encouragement. Still others desire to be present and just hug and cry with the hurting.
As God’s people, we are called to weep with those who weep (Romans 12:15). There is comfort in helping others through sorrow, both for the comforted and the comforter. When we are together, it just helps. Again, God created us to live in community with one another and bear one another’s burdens. I am so grateful for the Southern Baptist Disaster Relief team. This group of people are usually the first on the ground after a disaster like this, and they are equipped and ready to meet very tangible needs while sharing the hope of Christ to those hurting most. They are an army of volunteers from all over the United States, and on any given day, they are waiting for the call to go and serve.
The truth is helping helps.
We all feel helpless.
Not everyone can fly a helicopter, invest millions of dollars of relief funds, or leave at a moment’s notice with a chainsaw ready to clean up debris. The truth is, for the parents who lost their daughters, these things won’t bring them back. Does it even matter? What can be done that will really make a difference? If you have ever experienced a tragedy, you know that even the smallest things can bring healing and comfort. Something so small, like a meal or a hug, can be used by God to bring hope. Why? Why do these things help, even if just a little? They help because they point to something greater. A greater Hope.
Our ultimate hope doesn’t come from pretending it didn’t happen or patching the pain with avoidance. Paul, in his letter to the Corinthian church, proclaimed the truth that changes everything.
" Death is swallowed up in victory. O death, where is your victory? O death, where is your sting? The sting of death is sin, and the power of sin is the law. But thanks be to God, who gives us the victory through our Lord Jesus Christ." 1 Corinthians 15:55-57
The only reason we can ever have hope is Christ. His sinless life, sacrificial death, victorious resurrection, glorious ascension, and sure return is the proof that He has defeated death.
The truth is, follower of Christ, you are not helpless!
It is right to recognize that it shouldn’t be this way, and that it could have been us. It’s okay to ask “Why,” and it's good to help, because, Christian, you are not helpless! You have the same power in you that raised Christ from the dead (Romans 8:11). Pray to Him. Obey His commands to serve others as you would want them to serve you. Give generously. Hope in Christ.
As the old hymn says, “My hope is built on nothing less than Jesus' blood and righteousness. I dare not trust the sweetest frame, but wholly lean on Jesus’ name. On Christ the solid Rock I stand. All other ground is sinking sand. All other ground is sinking sand.” Brothers and sisters, know that we do not carry the weight alone. In fact, Jesus carries it all.
Come to me, all who labor and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you, and learn from me, for I am gentle and lowly in heart, and you will find rest for your souls. For my yoke is easy, and my burden is light.” Matthew 11:28-30
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