The Lord lives, and blessed be my rock; And exulted be God, the rock of my salvation. 2 Samuel 22:47
As I sit with the weight of recent days, grappling with the shock of Charlie Kirk’s assassination and my own reluctance to open the Scriptures, the Book of Hebrews speaks to me with a quiet, persistent voice. Its themes feel like a lifeline, pulling me back to the heart of my faith and inviting me to find meaning in the midst of chaos.
Jesus, My Anchor in the Storm
Hebrews 12:2 calls Jesus the “founder and perfecter of our faith,” and I’m clinging to that truth right now. The world feels unsteady—violence, division, and loss swirl around me, threatening to pull me under. Yet, Jesus stands as my anchor, the One who endured the cross and rose victorious. His example gives me hope that even in my grief, there’s a stability that no chaos can touch. I’m reminded that He’s not just a distant Savior but a personal guide, perfecting my faltering faith with every step I take toward Him.
Persevering Through the Fog of Grief
My avoidance of Scripture these past few days feels like a confession of my own frailty. Grief has a way of clouding everything, making it hard to see God’s promises clearly. Hebrews’ call to “run with endurance the race set before us” (12:1) feels both daunting and comforting. I struggle to keep running when my heart is heavy, but Hebrews reminds me that faith isn’t about feeling strong—it’s about trusting God’s promises even when I can’t see the finish line. Each moment I choose to lean into faith, even imperfectly, is a step toward perseverance, a refusal to let grief define my journey.
A Call to Holiness, a Path Back to God
Hebrews 12:14 urges me to “strive for peace with everyone, and for the holiness without which no one will see the Lord.” These words pierce me. In my withdrawal, I’ve distanced myself not just from others but from the holy life God calls me to. Holiness feels like a tall order when I’m wrestling with sorrow, but Hebrews invites me to see it as a path back to God’s presence. The call to worship “with reverence and awe” (12:28–29) stirs something in me—a longing to reconnect with God through prayer, Scripture, and the quiet awe of knowing He is a “consuming fire.” Maybe my reluctance to read the Bible wasn’t just avoidance but a cry for a deeper encounter with Him, one I can pursue with renewed intention.
An Unshakable Kingdom, My Refuge
The promise of “a kingdom that cannot be shaken” (12:28) feels like a balm for my soul. The news of Charlie Kirk’s death shook me, reminding me how fragile this world is. Yet, Hebrews assures me that God’s kingdom stands firm, untouched by the turmoil of human events. This truth invites me to shift my gaze from the chaos around me to the eternal purposes of God. I’m grateful for this unshakable refuge, a place where my grief can find meaning and my questions can rest in God’s enduring plan. It’s a reminder to worship, not out of obligation, but out of gratitude for a hope that nothing can destroy.
Finding Strength in Community
“Strive for peace with everyone” (12:14) feels like a gentle nudge to step out of my isolation. Grief can make me want to retreat, but Hebrews reminds me that I wasn’t meant to walk this road alone. I need the voices of others—friends, fellow believers—who can listen, pray, and remind me of God’s truth when my own strength falters. Reaching out for support feels vulnerable, but it’s a step toward healing, a way to honor the call to live in peace and love. As I process this loss, I’m learning that community is where God often meets us, offering strength through shared faith and compassion.
Be Inspired! 
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