Death By Linda Stowe
“Thou shalt not kill.” This is the sixth of the Ten Commandments. Not only is it against moral law but it is also against legislated law in the United States. It is wrong to kill another person. This holds true across all cultures.
And yet people die all the time. I’m not talking about accidents or the acts of evil doers. I’m talking about the deaths we hear about as we watch the evening news. We hear about a convict being put to death. There are stories about the innocent victims of war in Gaza or Ukraine. Maybe there are stories about starving children in Africa or pollution in remote areas. People dying of addiction, loneliness, untreated illness. There are so many deaths, there is not enough time to cover them all. So, just the highlights of the most interesting ones. Then we flip off the TV and go to bed. And while we sleep, people all over the world are dying.
Meanwhile, the polar ice caps are melting.
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Polly here.
Thankfully.
We aren’t really built for this.
Not for the constant scroll of disaster. Not for seeing death tucked between weather updates and celebrity gossip. And yet — here we are.
Every day, we hear about people dying. Not just in dramatic, headline-grabbing ways, but quietly — in hospitals, in alleys, in war zones, in lonely bedrooms. From hunger, addiction, neglect. From things that could have been prevented.
And we do care. We do.
But after a while, it starts to pile up, doesn’t it? Tragedy after tragedy. Sorrow after sorrow. We feel helpless. Overwhelmed. And maybe, worst of all — numb.
Have you ever caught yourself turning off the news, shaking your head, and just moving on with your day?
I have.
It’s not because we’re cold-hearted. It’s because we can’t hold it all. The human heart wasn’t designed to carry every grief at once. But what happens when we stop carrying any of it?
Some people harden.
Others retreat.
A few stay tender and try to do what they can — even if it’s small.
May our hearts always remain tender.
And so we go.
