Give Peace. Give Comfort.

A phone call from Eli.
A quick search online.

I was stuck there the rest of the day.
The rest of the week.
Not physically.
Emotionally.
Spiritually.

27 victims of 1 man's whim.

Why grieve?
Why look at pictures of the fallen?
Why pray for the families left behind?
WHY,
Is the question everyone is asking.

We want to empathize.
We want to be thankful for what we have.
We want to remember,
Just for a little,
That we are mortal,
And our children's futures are
NOT
In our hands.
We want to pray.

Those of us who trust in a God
That is greater than we are,
Know he can bring
PEACE
Amid chaos.
That he can bring
COMFORT
Where there is none to be had.

Saturday.
I woke up to the thought of the parents,
Who
Just yesterday
At this very time,
Helped their six year olds
Into their coats.
Helped them put on their shoes.
And kissed their foreheads
Before they skipped to school.
For the very last time.

Monday.
As I helped my six year old.
Get into her coat.
Helped her put on her shoes.
And kissed her forehead
Before she skipped into school.
I felt privileged.
I felt thankful.
I felt blessed.
That my child was not shot.
But I felt sad.
I repeated my now very familiar prayer.
For those who couldn't.
Do the things I had just done.
EVER.
AGAIN.
And curiously enough.
I want to keep those feelings.
Close to my heart.