Monday, December 17, 2012

I've just sat down to write a post-- a report on the weekend Christmas market, some funny anecdotes, festive photos, but then, as background noise to write by, I put on NPR.  Of course the whole programming was on the tragedy in Connecticut.  Background noise. I'm finding it tough right now to be amusing or festive.

It is so very very sad.  My heart breaks for the mourning families of the killed, for the school that will never get past this, for the community struggling to understand.  But most of all, my heart is breaking for a country, my country, my country that is quite obviously in a state of depression.

I don't mean economic depression.  I'm talking about social, emotional, and spiritual depression.  When a person exhibits self destructive behaviours, all alarms go off that this person needs help.  I think the same must be true for a country.  Mass shooting of children and teachers at a school is rather self destructive for a society.

I'm writing this from my home, my current life in a country that is not the one that I claim as mine.  Perhaps this gives me no right to complain or criticize, to cast stones.  No, not perhaps -- I have no right. 

And my heart is still breaking.


  1. Mike in Boulder8:17 PM

    The following is from an unknown blog posted by somebody by the name of Beth.

    Mike in Boulder

    “God lives here. The streets are safe.” So says The Message’s version of Psalm 46.

    But they aren’t.

    The streets aren’t safe.

    So how can we proclaim that they are?

    It’s an either/or proposition, right?


    I’m not so sure.

    We need new words for the both-andedness of life.

    Words like unsafesafe or safeunsafe or the unness of safeness.

    Words to grab hold of reality: that things are safe and unsafe all at once – unsafe for these human bodies, which are so very vulnerable to all sorts of trouble, misfortune and tragedy . . . safe for the true state of things, which never depends on what happens to this body – but does.

    Words that recognize that what happens to our bodies matters and that the love that happens in all the small moments of life is as big and bigger than the walls falling down around.

    Both are true. Both are real.

    Tragedy happens.

    Love happens too.

    Even, and perhaps especially, amidst the tragedy.

    For God is there.

    And wherever God is, there is love.

    Caring, regretting, sorrowing, rejoicing, love.

    Where was God on the Friday no one would dare call Good?

    Right there – taking the bullet too . . . holding the wee tiny hands . . . weeping . . . wrestling . . . screaming.

    Why doesn’t God protect us from our worst selves?

    I wish I knew.

  2. Anonymous2:19 AM

    Dearest Lynn, Whether optimistic or sad, your writing always rings true. xox
    There are no words to soothe the anguish of this latest horrific act. No way to erase the image of those little ones and their brave teachers ravaged by bullets, launched by insanity. I found myself heartened when I read the simple words of Fred Rogers who once said, ' in scary times look to the helpers'.(paraphrased) Wise words to say to a bewildered child (and to ourselves) and there were many helpers that day that prevented the horror being even worse. The secretary who turned on the intercom;the teachers who hid children in closets and cabinets; even shielding them with their own bodies; the police who arrived within ten minutes of being notified.......... Will this be the tipping point to do something about assault weapons being so easily available here; to turn around greed for possessions to supporting mental health services ; to pay more attention to each other; to teach children to be kind to the loners and those who are "different". It's time. It's time............ Hugs, Brenda