This weekend, I, like many people on social media, changed my profile picture to include a French flag filter. It’s not much—it doesn’t fix the problem. But it’s a simple way to show solidarity with the French people affected by recent acts of terrorism. It has been inspiring to see friends and strangers across the world show similar solidarity–with France, but also with Beirut, Syria, Baghdad, and all of the other areas across the world currently affected by violence.

I was reflecting on this unity as I scrolled through social media, feeling as if I had finally found something good amid this mess…Until I looked back at my profile picture and noticed something.

I observed a sad juxtaposition: me, mid-laugh and joyful…along with the flag, symbolizing hurt and shock that I could never even imagine. How could I be smiling? I felt guilty. I can go on living life relatively unscathed, unaffected. But others in Paris, Baghdad, Syria, Beirut, and beyond? They can’t.

As a Catholic, how should I respond? How can I help see good in this? How can I help be good in this?

How do I make #PrayforParis or #PrayforPeace more than just a hashtag in my life?

1. Live in Solidarity

One of the beautiful things that has begun to shine through this incredible darkness is unity. It is at times like this that we see the shared humanity within each of our hearts. Across the world, across all walks of life, we mourn together in light of the tragedies we are witnessing.

It is in circumstances like this that the Lord calls us to share the load, to serve as St. Simon of Cyrene did on Calvary. When our brothers and sisters are hurting, it is up to us to hurt with them, to love with them, to mourn with them, and to simply be there with them, serving as living proof that they are not alone in their pain. We are called to practice solidarity, to show that no man is an island.

Solidarity, St. John Paul II says, “is not a feeling of vague compassion or shallow distress at the misfortunes of so many people, both near and far. On the contrary, it is a firm and persevering determination to commit oneself to the common good; that is to say to the good of all and of each individual, because we are all really responsible for all.”

We are responsible for one another, in good times and in bad. Let us resolve, through our prayers, thoughts, and actions, to commit to the common good of those suffering in our world. Their joy is our joy, and their pain is our pain—no matter the distance.

2. Pray

In times of tragedy, the #Prayfor(blank) hashtag often surfaces, among both religious and irreligious individuals alike. I wonder why this is our first instinct. Why don’t we #sendgoodthoughts or #wishbestofluck?

I’d venture to say that, even subconsciously, we know that prayer is so much more than this. Wishing good upon another, although so important, is just part of the story. Prayer is not only wishing, but acting.

And I know we may doubt that prayer is action. After all, how can a few minutes in prayer make a difference against a world full of evil? It’s tempting to say: “it can’t.” It’s tempting to think we are powerless.

But prayer is intercession mediated by God Himself. We may not be able to change things, but if anyone can, it’s Him. Prayer is inviting something greater into our mess—inviting someOne who has the power to give us just what we need just when we need it.

In fact, prayer is the most active action we could imagine. Our words, our fists, our initiatives…they all pale in comparison to the intercession of the Almighty Father.

We may not understand it, but if we put our prayers into a cause, no matter how evil, those we pray for will be lifted up more than we can imagine. Perhaps we won’t see it visibly or immediately, but if we stand ready to receive the Lord’s direction, He will not let us down. He will not ignore us when we cry out to Him.

Remember His words:

“I will heal them and lead them; I will give full comfort to them and to those who mourn for them, I the Creator, who gave them life. Peace, peace to the far and the near, says the Lord, and I will heal them” (Isaiah 57:18-19).

3. Let your heart break, but don’t let it stay that way.

My friend is studying abroad in France. For a second, as my text messages failed to get through to her, I wondered. I knew she was out of danger, but still I wondered what my life would be like if she had been injured or worse. For a second, I began to imagine the pain many were experiencing in reality.

And it scared me. Why did this evil have to exist? What would be next? How could we ever win?

My friend was okay, but it made me realize what fuels the fire of terror: fear. Hurt and loss are real struggles, but fear, on the other hand, is based not in the reality of the situation, but in the possible realities yet to occur. Whereas our natural instinct is to pursue justice amid evil, fear paralyzes us, reducing us to inaction and passive apprehension. This fear is what cripples us, even after the violence stops and the memories fade. This is what keeps us from finding peace.

But terror can only hurt us so much when we realize something crucial: evil is out there… but our God is stronger.

Yes, we will experience hurt and loss and suffering. Our hearts will break. But then they will mend.

They will mend because our God is stronger than the grave. He is stronger than hatred and violence and injustice. He is truth and life and love, everything that terror is not.

If you’re wondering how to approach this as a Christian, or as a human, the simple answer is: Don’t let the terror win. Our God is greater.

Evil will never have the final say. Evil can never win. Our God will win. Our God has won.

To the people suffering across the world: I am sorry. I am praying for you. Let your brothers and sisters carry your cross alongside you. You don’t have to walk this path alone. Not ever, and especially not now.

To those reading who are not directly affected by tragedy: Let us use this evil to bring about tremendous good. God has no hands and feet but ours. Let’s get to work: loving, praying, and committing in word and deed to the common good of our beloved brothers and sisters.