Friends, forgive me. Lately, I haven’t had much to say. Well, that’s not actually true. I have had far too much to say every day, but most of it has been in Spanish.
I told y’all I’d write on Monday, Wednesday, and Friday during language school, and last week I didn’t write at all. (Scheduling note: posts will be irregular until January, but I will do my best to hit that MWF goal in 2013.)
On Thursday, I sat down and tried to draft some words about love for the second week of advent. All week, I’d mused on brokenness, too, hoping to link up with two great online magazines I love, SheLoves and Prodigal. Out of sheer exhaustion, the words would not fall together on either topic in any coherent way. I gave up for the night, thinking I’d post on Friday.
Then Einstein got sick, and I brought the kids home early from school, and so I was at home with my precious little people when I heard the news out of Newtown.
I have read many opinions since Friday, some that I agree with, others that I abhor. And yet I haven’t put words together to tell you all how I feel, what I think.
Mostly what I think is that I can’t tread on the families’ grief. When the worst grief of my life hit, it was private, not all over the news. And so the only people commenting were friends, dear, well-meaning people who loved us, but even so, some of them said some really stupid things.
“God must have needed her more.” So, the all-knowing, all-powerful God lacked something in Heaven? That only she could provide?
“She’s happier now.” Really? I mean, technically, probably yes, but she was deliriously happy in the months before she died. Happiness was not in short supply. We could have lived quite contentedly with that level of happiness for a long time.
“I don’t know how you’ll get through this.” Well. Neither did we.
And our situation had no fault, no crime, no one to blame. No nationwide news outlets splashing our heartbreak all over the channels.
My heart is broken for you and with you, Sandy Hook families. That’s all.