Heart Heavy

For as long as I've been putting pen to paper or fingers to a keyboard, I've taken solace in the power of words.  Writing has always helped me clear my head, allowed me to unload my thoughts, my feelings, and whatever emotions may be running through my heart.  I think often, whenever I carve out even a few minutes of the day to write, of the Flannery O'Connor quote - "I write because I don't know what I think until I read what I say."  However, as I sit at my desk, with the rain pouring outside, I find I am at a complete and utter loss.  Tonight, all words seem to be failing me. 

I realize I am not any different from the rest of you who are grieving over the devastating news and events that unfolded on Friday morning in Newtown, Connecticut.  The news about those poor, innocent victims, has left a whole in my heart I can't imagine ever being filled.  I have been spiraling down the rabbit hole with thoughts for those poor children, all of the victims, and their families.  Like everyone else I wish there was something I could do, that any of us could do, to bring those twenty sweet, little, innocent first graders and six heroic educators back, that there was some way to reverse the utter, wasteful tragedy of Friday.

The speeches that have come out of vigils and the tributes that are unfolding throughout the week are far better written, executed, and said than anything I could say here on this tiny little blog.  There are so many heartbreaking stories from these families, and oh, I can't even begin to imagine the pain and hurt and loss they are dealing with every minute of every hour.  My heart breaks into pieces whenever I think about any of them. For some reason one of the most haunting thoughts, one I cannot seem to shake, the thing that seems to break my heart over and over and over when I think about it, is how, surely, many of those parents had already tucked away their little one's Christmas presents, how many special surprises from Santa were hidden away in basements or a neighbor's garage or a grandparents attic, all for naught.

Those gifts... 
Those feet running excitedly down a hallway...
Those family dinners...
The bedtime stories...
The birthday parties...
All of those silly, giggle, adorable six and seven year old moments...

And so many firsts that will never come to be.

Oh, my heart.

All of our hearts.

I am just so sorry.

If you would like to donate or help the families and town of Newtown, CT, CNN has posted several sites and more information here. 

In watching all of the news coverage I keep thinking how easily Newtown could have been my hometown.  How easily it could have been any other town in these United States.

President Obama may have said it best last night, during his speech in Newtown High School:

We know our time on this Earth is fleeting. We know that we will each have our share of pleasure and pain; that even after we chase after some earthly goal, whether it’s wealth or power or fame, or just simple comfort, we will, in some fashion, fall short of what we had hoped. We know that no matter how good our intentions, we will all stumble sometimes, in some way. We will make mistakes, we will experience hardships. And even when we’re trying to do the right thing, we know that much of our time will be spent groping through the darkness, so often unable to discern God’s heavenly plans.

There’s only one thing we can be sure of, and that is the love that we have -- for our children, for our families, for each other. The warmth of a small child’s embrace -- that is true. The memories we have of them, the joy that they bring, the wonder we see through their eyes, that fierce and boundless love we feel for them, a love that takes us out of ourselves, and binds us to something larger -- we know that’s what matters. We know we’re always doing right when we’re taking care of them, when we’re teaching them well, when we’re showing acts of kindness. We don’t go wrong when we do that.