"After silence, that which comes nearest to expressing the inexpressible is music."
I am now on my fifth day of trying to process the tragedy in Connecticut I am trying to wrap my head around the shooting in a school, in a mall. I am trying to figure out what my heart is supposed to feel and my head is supposed to think at a time like this. Like so many others, I am answered with silence.
There are plenty who feel the need to add their voices to the mix and in a way I am too. Some are writing beautiful pieces offering real suggestions to help those that might cause terror such as this due to mental illness. Others are suggesting the time is here, yet again, to really examine the gun control policies in our nation. There are also beautiful stories and posts to social media of acts of kindness and remembrance of the little souls and the brave adults who time came too quickly and harshly.
Then there are those who see this is a time to offer angry words. They blame guns, blame God, blame the nation. Whether from fear or anger, they strike out at whomever they can reach.
All I know is that at Sunday's youth group I looked at the teens and wondered...Would I be as brave as those teachers? What could I do to protect them more? Why did those children have to die and never get the chance to experience the sweet torture of adolescence?
All I know is I now treasure all the more the pictures and updates I get from my goddaughters. I wish I was closer to my pseud-nieces and nephews to offer them hugs and celebrate each day with them.
All I know is that there are no words of comfort, no policy shifts, no anger, no fear that can erase what has happened.
I do not have the words to offer you, those grieving, or myself. I simply offer my silent prayer to God knowing that the angels will add their voices and those voices are all the sweeter with the choir of Sandy Hook's children.