today I read some news about connecticut tragedy. I’ve taken a couple of days off from reading because, to be perfectly honest, it was too hard on me. my heart was too heavy. I felt selfish today when I realized that was why. there are people…tons and tons of people, who cannot go a minute without thinking about it. there are families, parents, siblings, teachers, friends, husbands, children, all who think about it all the time because their world came crashing in around them on Friday. So I’m sorry if it’s selfish that I took a break from the news for a couple of days. I was still prayerful and concerned for those who are suffering, I just could not read another news story.
Today I woke up and read the news, and there were three amazingly real and truthful and amazing things I saw.
The first is a video of robbie parker, who lost his 6 year old daughter, Emilie in the shooting. only about 24 hours after he found out that his beautiful young daughter had been killed in the tragic school shooting, he spoke to the press about his daughter. He described her as bright and compassionate child who drew pictures for people who needed cheering and was a best friend to her two younger sisters, who she was teaching to read. His words were heart-felt, heart-wrenching, and beautiful. He expressed their deep, deep sadness, their sympathy for the other families who lost people, and for the shooter’s family. 24 hours after a gunman shot his 6 year old, he said that he’s not mad, and that he won’t harbor hatred for her killer because that’s not who Emilie was and that’s not what God calls us to. It’s difficult to believe that anyone could possibly be that good, that loving, that forgiving, but I’m thankful for his words among outcries of anger and hatred. What a challenge to all of us. what could anyone ever do to me that’s worse than what was done to him? there is nothing. if he can forgive, even if it’s a long process for him of wavering between anger and forgiveness, how can we not forgive those who wrong us?
The second article I read was about George Hochsprung, husband of the slain principal from Sandy Hook. He says that when he heard that his wife put herself in danger to try to stop the gunman, he was angry. Everyone around the country, even the world, is hailing her as a hero-she reportedly charged the gunman, trying to stop him-and her husband was angry that she never gets to come home and other people do. I cried while reading this article, partially because his honesty is so raw and hard to take, and partially because I think that would be me. If my sweet hubs died (heaven forbid) saving someone else’s life, I would be grateful for the life that was saved, but I think that on my hard days I’d just be angry that he could have stayed safe and he chose not to. I’m not super proud of that, but I am grateful for this man who had the guts to admit to a very difficult emotion. He did say that things changed on Sunday when he met two teachers who his wife had told to take cover while she confronted the gunman. He said “I’m not angry anymore. I’m not angry. I’m just very sad.” My heart breaks for this man, and for the many parents, friends, others that he represents, who are left to try to pick up the pieces of a life that just doesn’t quite fit right anymore. I’m so sorry, Mr. Hochsprung. Thank you for your honesty. My heart aches.
The last thing I read this morning that made this so real for me was in a piece about the victims. Each of the kids are described as bright and beautiful. I know this is true. Kids have this amazing way of lighting up the world around them with their generous spirits. According to family, so did Vicki Soto, who reportedly hid her students in cabinets and told the gunman they were in the gym before she was killed. She literally gave her life for the students she loved. There is no greater love. The article I read this morning said that her dog wandered around her house all night Saturday looking for her. I cried when I read this, knowing that Mojo would be so confused and sad if one of us didn’t ever come home.
Then I walked downstairs and saw this:
our sweet dog, Mojo, normally sleeps in our bedroom. Last night he was muddy and we were too tired to clean him off, so he slept on his bed downstairs. When I came down this morning he had found one of my shoes, taken it to his bed, and was cuddling it. Normally I’d be pretty upset about the teeth marks in my shoe, but today I choose to be grateful for them. They are a reminder of how loved I am and how blessed I am to have my sweet little family.
I am also grateful for the challenge to be completely transparent, both when I’m angry and hurt, and when God somehow gives me the strength to forgive, to love, to hope. Those emotions-all of them- are a gift to the people around us. Sometimes someone who is struggling needs to hear that it’s okay to be angry, to be hurt, to not understand. And sometimes people need to be reminded that there is always hope, always room for love, that God can work a miracle in your heart if you let Him. I know that there have been times I have needed both of those messages. The Advent season is the perfect reminder of this, right? It is a time dedicated to remembering a people who were desperately waiting, begging for a Savior, exiled and alone. But God, who loves us, did not leave them there, instead He came , in lowly human form, to be with and give hope to his people.
Thank you, courageous men, for being brave enough to share your hearts with a world that grieves with you.
And don’t forget, reader, you are so, so loved.
“O Come, Thou Day Spring, come and cheer our spirits by Thine advent here. Dispel the stormy clouds of night, and death’s dark shadow put to flight. Rejoice! Rejoice! Emmanuel shall come to thee, o Israel.”