This morning, with the news of so many killings dominating everything, I went outside to be still and wait for the small still voice to come.

Suddenly, in my mind, I saw and heard a vile man cursing, jerking, and raving at the sky. Then instantly, the image turned into a tender child, a baby lying on a blanket suspended in mid-air crying, screaming in anguish with clenched fist and eyes shut tight; he was clearly demanding, charging that someone must come and hold him, someone or something must ease his pain.

A measure of calm settled through me, I heard the still voice, I knew the man and the baby; together, they were the image of the human soul writhing in agony as the Christ was moving through them wrenching the fear and anguish from their being.

I know something of that pain and I know that the sweet love of God will follow the cleansing.