Cracks in the Wall: What Straw Exposes About the Pressure We Keep Ignoring

I'd already been sitting with this idea. Thinking about the weight we carry in silence. About Straw, the YouTube murders in Las Vegas, and what happens when the pressure finally bursts through the cracks.

"The cracks were there. We just didn't see them."

Then I heard about what happened in Brooklyn Park.

Then Champlin.

Back-to-back losses. Right here at home.

Different stories. Different cities. Same brutal aftermath: “We didn’t see it coming.”

There are no words that can undo the grief, but silence ain't it either. So let me be clear: We mourn with the families. We pray for the communities. And we owe it to all of them to reflect not just react. Because what shook me wasn't just the headlines. It was the pattern. And Straw laid it bare. There’s this kind of silence we've normalized. Not peace. Not rest. I'm talking about that heavy, hold-it-together silence, the kind you wear like armor when you’re the "strong one."

That’s what Straw hit me with. Not the plot. Not the performances. But the mirror.

Because Perry didn’t just show a woman unraveling. He showed the cracks. And how nobody noticed. I sat with that. Because if we're honest, in our families, our churches, our communities, we’ve gotten real good at praising people who "push through." We don’t ask if they're okay. We ask if they can still show up.

We celebrate endurance, but we don't grieve exhaustion. We love the strong woman, but rarely ask what it cost her. We admire the steady father, but never ask who steadies him. We clap for resilience while ignoring the slow bleed underneath. Straw made it plain: It's not just about the moment a person breaks. It's about the hundred silent moments before. The ones we dismissed. The ones we minimized. The ones we didn’t even see. That’s a spiritual issue. Because the God I serve isn't just about holding us up, He’s about healing what's broken. He sees cracks. He sits with pain. He cares before we collapse.

So I’ll say this bluntly, If the people around you only love the version of you that keeps it together, that's not love. That's convenience. And if your church, your crew, your workplace can't handle your vulnerability, then maybe it's not the safe space you thought it was. We're not called to be invincible. We're called to be whole. Let this be the charge: Start checking for the cracks. Start listening for the silence. Start being the person who notices before the break. Because sometimes, the loudest scream is the one nobody hears.

Scripture says:

"Carry each other's burdens, and in this way you will fulfill the law of Christ." (Galatians 6:2)

Let's stop glamorizing strength without support. Let's build communities where healing isn't optional it's expected. And maybe, just maybe we'll stop losing good people to the weight they were never meant to carry alone.