When I read the headline and the subsequent article, I said a quick prayer. Surely the 15 year old victim would not be one of the students I had when I taught on the other side of town. After all, there are at least 2-3 other high schools near the crime scenes and that meant there could easily be thousands of other teens, students that I didn’t know, get shot that night.

When the minor succumbed to his wounds, the same outlets released his name. His name is unique, but still I hoped. It couldn’t be the same child I knew when he was 11 turning 12. Sadly, a quick text to my mentor teacher who still loves the students at that school, confirmed my fears. I now know a young person, a kid, who has become a victim of gun violence.

When the news came of another school shooting in Nashville, I was sadly not shocked. It seems that it isn’t a matter of “if” anymore, but “when” and “where.” But what was really unsettling this time, was that the shooter at Antioch High School, had once been a student here in my district. Not only was he once a student in this district but he had been a student in my girls’ elementary school. He had been a student in the very halls of the middle school in which I now teach. This knowledge was sobering.

This “new” year has not gotten off to a very “good” start. The news from across the nation has been a lot, has been sad. New Years Day brought headlines of lives lost in a terror attack in NOLA and another attempted attack in Vegas. Wildfires through the heart of Los Angeles with all the devastation and too much loss to comprehend, sparing no social class or showing any partiality. A helicopter of heroes and passenger plane of people collide in the back yard of the White House. Another plane, this one a medical transport, within days, if not hours later, crashes in the City of Brotherly Love. All of this in one month. The knowledge of these devastated families, who lives are forever altered, is heavy.

Also in January, the new president’s inauguration and onslaught of executive orders has left large groups of people ostracized, disenfranchised and scared. Maybe, if you struggle with empathy, your first thought is that “they” should be frightened or it serves “them” right. But none of “these” people are your enemies. They are Image Bearers of God Himself and are just as deserving of mercy, grace and love as you and me. If we put ourselves in their shoes, we can understand how frustrated and frightening these days have been. It’s truly challenging to know what voice to listen to and who to believe about what is happening or what will or could happen next politically and globally.

Seasonal Affective Disorder is a real thing. The let down after the holidays followed by the gray weather days of January has been scientifically proven as distressing and depressing. We’ve even had snow, measurable, lasting, snow along the Gulf Coast this January. The cold weather kept us indoors and isolated for a few, long days this month too. Other health issues have arisen with an uptick of flu and stomach virus cases even closing schools in our state. My house has not been spared, with two of my three daughters missing consecutive school days over the last three weeks. I know the weariness of wanting out and the weakness of not being able to help my kids feel better.

The old saying about “Ignorance being bliss” is something that I know the truth of. Once you know something, you can never go back to not knowing. There is a big part of me that wants to stand with my eyes tightly clinched shut, my hands flat against my ears and my voice screaming, “NO MORE!” over and over again – I don’t want to see any more headlines. I don’t want to hear any more bad news. I don’t want to know the hardships of anyone else. I don’t feel like I can handle any more.

But God.

I read in Exodus this week of my God. The last verse of the second chapter of the second book of Bible, has brought me hope. “God saw the Israelites – and He knew.” His people, His imperfect, all-too-often failing people, were in trouble. They were slaves. They were oppressed. Everything was bad and God saw them. He saw them and He knew. He knew their situation, their need, their unworthiness, their faults, their problems. And He knew how He would save them.

He sees us and knows as well. Just as He had a plan for them and their hardships, He has one for us too. He always has. None of what has or is happening in 2025 is catching Him off guard or causing Him to alter His determined outcomes for us. His character then is His character now.

He is all-knowing, all-powerful. He is the executer of justice and He is the very definition of love. His word tells us in Romans that He is God of ALL HOPE and that He will supply us with JOY, PEACE and HOPE (Romans 15:13).

So, as I walked out of school this afternoon, having broken up a fight in my classroom at dismissal and taking in the literal storm clouds on the horizon, I felt tired and overwhelmed. Now what? What else?! Then the Holy Spirit brought that verse from Exodus back to the forefront of my mind. He sees me. He knows.

I don’t have to articulate my feelings in a prayer. He sees. He knows.

I don’t have to have answers to all my questions or endings to all my uncertainties. He sees. He knows.

I don’t have to fix the problems in front of me. He sees. He knows.

He knows what is best and He can make bring it about. He doesn’t drop a ball, break a plate, or show up late. He sees. He knows.

He is asking me to trust, to rest, to remember who He is, who He sees and what He knows.