Darkness is a harsh term, don't you think? And yet it dominates the things I see. - Mumford and Sons
Flint is gray city. The snow is gray, the sky is gray, the buildings are gray. With the gray comes a certain gloom.
Andrew is disabled. He can't - or won't - eat, and he can't - or won't - speak. He's five, but has the body of a two-year-old.
One of my friends just lost his sister and her husband in a plane crash. The plane smashed to the ground and burst into flames. They were a young, vivacious couple, spreading joy everywhere they went.
And yet, there is color in the grayness. There's joy in Andrew's face. And the young couple now knows the joy of heaven.
Flintians are still enjoying life. My friends and I walk around downtown, go to the Torch, have fun. One of them lives downtown, walks to work at the Flint Institute of Art, and lives Life. Andrew is delighted with an old phone as a toy, walking around with it, offering it to me so I can take the call. He crawls in bed when I tell him, waits for me to kiss him and tuck him in before he dozes off. The news story about the great young couple who so tragically left this earth has given their families opportunities to share the hope that they have with audiences large and small.
The light shines in the darkness, and the darkness has not overcome it. - John 1:5