In the wake of the Australian bushfires some of the good stories are finally starting to emerge. Stories of courage, stories of endurance, stories of self sacrifice, stories of families trying to resurrect their lives.
But the flames. The images linger. So surreal, so deadly. Imagine standing behind the lens of this camera, watching the flames come at you faster than you can run. The oxygen sucked out of the air.
What I find most haunting is the faces of the children who perished – so, so many – and the stories of the children who survived, survived alone. Where is the meaning in that, in lives damaged, in lives cut so short?
Tragedies like this draw me into reflection about the meaning of life, and the way towards life lived without fear of death. There is good news, but, but its amid pain.