Steven LaChance Blog

God,

This morning, I wake up once again with a heavy heart, wondering how the world is ever going to come out of the darkness that seems to have taken control, slowly choking it. I know you see it, too—the hatred, the violence, the way people tear each other apart over things that should bring them together. It feels like every time we take a step toward the light, something drags us back into the shadows. And honestly? I don’t understand it.

You gave us free will, and I get that. But what are we doing with it? We turn on each other. We let greed, fear, and power dictate our choices. We justify cruelty in your name. You, the source of love, the force that breathes life into every living thing—how did we twist you into an excuse for division and destruction?

I look around, and I see the weight of it all on people’s shoulders. It’s in the eyes of strangers who don’t meet each other’s gaze anymore. It’s in the exhaustion of those who fight for something better but wonder if they’re screaming into the void. It’s in the way hope flickers, sometimes barely hanging on.

And yet—there is still light.

I see it in small kindnesses: the stranger who stops to help, the friend who listens without judgment, the quiet acts of love that go unnoticed but still matter. I see it in those who refuse to give up, even when everything tells them to. And I know, somewhere deep in my soul, that you are in those moments. That you are whispering in the spaces where love is still alive.

But God, I have to ask: Is it enough?

Are we enough?

Because some days, it feels like we’re losing. Like the darkness is growing faster than we can push it back. And I don’t want to lose faith—not in you, not in us—but it’s hard. It’s really hard.

So, tell me, what do we do?

Because if there’s a plan, if there’s something more we’re supposed to be doing, I’d really love to know.

And if you’re waiting for us to figure it out on our own, well… maybe a sign wouldn’t hurt. Something to remind us that love still wins. That we haven’t already fallen too far.

Until then, I’ll keep looking for you in the quiet, in the kindness, in the love that refuses to be extinguished. And I’ll try—God, I’ll really try—to believe that the light is still stronger than the dark.

With hope,

Steven