It's hard to find one's thoughts on a day like today, and to group them into a cohesive form, and to then blog them.
It's hard to look at the faces of anguished parents on the news and imagine what their pain must be like. What must the uncertainty be like, as you wait for news of the fate of your child? And what of the sudden and searing pain of loss experienced by parents whose children were killed?
It's hard to see a photograph of children being led by a police officer across a parking lot that looks so very similar to the parking lot at your own child's school.
It's hard to hear that some of the children who died were kindergarteners. Children who still believed in Santa Claus and superheroes and inherent goodness. Children who likely did not know evil until it burst into their classroom.
It's hard to answer the questions that your 4th grader poses: Is that why we practice lock-down drills? What if that happened at my school? What would my teacher do if that happened at my school? What would you do, Mom? What if that happened on my bus? What should I do if a bad guy comes to my school at recess and starts shooting? Why did he do it? Why did he want to kill kids?
It's hard to witness tragedy (even though we may be so far removed, geographically speaking) so close to Christmas; hard to see a town decorated with twinkling Christmas lights plunged so deeply into sorrow.
It's hard to take a phone call from my dad, a school bus driver, and hear the emotion in his voice as he talks about how the kids that were killed were no different than the young kids he drives to school each day. There was a weariness in his voice as he asked the same question we've all asked over and over today..."why?"
It's hard to know what the answer is in all of this, to know what the solution is, to figure out a way to keep it from happening it again. It's hard to keep from getting political. It's hard not to have knee-jerk reactions and not react in the emotion of the moment.
But do you know what's not hard? It's not hard to be happy when your kids get off the bus at the end of the day. It's not hard to hug them tight. It's not hard to pray over them. It's not hard to reach out to neighbors and say "hi," to build stronger communities, to help the less fortunate, to make this world a better place. It's not hard to pray for the families of Sandy Hook Elementary and ask God's peace and love to surround them on this cold December night.
Pastor Moe wrote this on a different facebook page. I thought you would like to read his thoughts about this maddness." I am working with the original Christmas where children are killed by a madman. Using the verse, "Rachel weeping for her children because they are no more," Matthew 2:18, to recognize the sadness of that first Christmas account. Adding to it Longfellow's account of the tragedy of the Civil War as he writes the carol, "I heard the bells." Am seeing a lot of resolution with the angels in the midst of all this saying so timelessly, in Luke 2:14 "Peace on Earth." What is helpful is the pattern of Luke 2:14 as the Angels start with a focus on God and move to, "Peace on Earth." Longfellow got into confusion because he began with a focus on the endless craziness of this earth. I sense that there is something very relevant for us today in Luke 2:14."
ReplyDeleteHope this is a help."
For such a difficult thing to write about, and such difficult emotions to try to put to words, you did an excellent job. Very well written and you voiced me emotions as well. Thank you!
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