Collectively broken

My heart, along with millions of others, ached last Friday as the details of a heinous and senseless crime were being reported.  We all, collectively, searched for answers as to why any single person could take the lives of so many innocent children.  Many of us prayed, saying prayers for family and friends and teachers and first responders and of course those tiny souls.  We watched, political views aside for once, as our President spoke with shaky voice.  We cried....all of us, together, just thinking of this town and how they would have to pick themselves up. 

Even today I have a hard time discussing this without being emotional.  My husband and I made the decision on Sunday that we would not watch any more news regarding Newtown, CT.  There is a part of me that feels guilty for not knowing more about the victims, but I know this is the right choice for our home.  Our nation needs to heal.  I am praying, often, for these families.  Our thoughts are with them each morning that we wake Josie up for school.  Each day that we leave her, I cannot help but wonder what those parents must be feeling.  Each afternoon she is picked up, I am thankful. 

Our hearts are broken and our heads are confused.  Our prayers are for peace and comfort and healing.  I wish we could do more, but we do not know how.  We will never forget what happened last Friday and our nation needs to find away to prevent it from happening again.  The only thing we can do, now, is offer kindness.  Be kind to one another.  Love your neighbor.  Love your family.  Be patient.  Be faithful and respectful.  Recognize the value of another person's life and your own.  Be thankful.  Be worthy of living...because somehow, we are here, yet 20 sweet, innocent, young souls are not.  And it makes no sense.  And it never will.

Last Friday, I could not get to her fast enough. It did not matter how fast I replied to the emails. How quickly I returned the calls. It was not a matter of what time I left the building and drove out of the parking lot. None of that mattered. The actual time of my eventual arrive was irrelevant, as no matter what time I arrived, it would not be soon enough.  As I pulled into the parking lot I witnessed a mother embracing her daughter, the same way I had wanted to hug my child all day long.  Thank you, Lord, for allowing me another day to love my child.  I know I shared that same prayer with that mom last Friday, along with so many other parents.  I cannot say it enough....Thank You, Lord.