I don’t care who you are, Adam Lanza. I don’t care what you were like as a boy. I don’t particularly care to know your height or the color of your hair. And, frankly, I don’t care what demons possessed you. But I do care that you are no longer breathing the breath that was gifted to you 20 years ago. I will not mourn your loss of life, but I will pray for your family and what your cowardice has done to them and the years to come.
I won’t apologize if that seems harsh, this being the season of caring and giving. He lost that right when he took the lives of 26 innocent people – children, mothers, grandmothers – he gruesomely took lives and played God when no one asked him to. I don’t even want a reason, an inkling of a clue as to why he did this; that no longer matters. What trumps all else is keeping the victims alive in our prayers and in our hearts. To respect their families as they grieve an inexplicable, abhorrent, needless loss. We need to respect their privacy to mourn, to reflect, to pray, to heal. The media needs to step back and vacate their town, even if it’s just long enough for the families to bury their fallen.
The powers that be can speculate that this may cause the nation to look closer at gun control, mental illness, security in our schools, but it won’t be done today, and it won’t be done tomorrow, so piss off and let these poor people be.
I’ve heard and read people asking how could a loving God allow this to happen, but one needs to realize that whatever kind of God you believe in, you were born with your own free will, your own choices to do evil or good. God is not holding us hostage like puppets on a string. So please keep your chosen faith, and hold the innocents of Newtown, and all victims of violence in your hearts and prayers. Take this as an opportunity to tell people you love them, you miss them, you are happy they are in your life, and try to celebrate the true meaning of the season, to love and be loved. Hope and keep hoping. Believe and keep believing.
I am humbled and thankful that this isn’t me, my family or my community whose worst unspoken nightmare has come true. I breathe with a heavy yet contented heart that it wasn’t my child who saw the face of Satan before they met the Angels of God.
Sleep in Heavenly Peace…
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