Today a nation weeps. Evil has infiltrated our senses. We cannot look the other way, as we do daily. We can only acknowledge the loss and pain with tears and prayers.
Parents tonight lie in beds unable to sleep. Down the hall are empty beds where the hopes and dreams of families should be asleep. But they are not there. A silence louder than anything they have ever heard is ringing in the ears of parents and grandparents. This is the one fear they could never bring themselves to ruminate upon. But the Enemy has struck with deadly force.
In a day or two America will move on with their own lives. The reality of every day troubles regains the focus. Unattached people use this horror as a launchpad for discussions about gun control or abortion or school prayer. These lives lost are not fodder for morality plays. They are real children with toys that sit abandoned. Their parents gather their pillows and breathe deeply the fragrance of their sons and daughters before it fades away.
So before we draw our lessons, make our politics, point our fingers, or dig up Bible prophecies about the end times… Let this sink in. Can’t we just hurt with them? This is a time to gather our children, love on them, and know that for tonight we have the richest possession of all … The gentle rise and fall of the sleeping child down the hall.
And for those of us who have lost our children too, we must simply pray from that raw unhealed place deep in our hearts. We know.
As our nation weeps, so do I.