Yesterday our school district sent out a strangely vague message about end-of-the-world rumors and the Mayan calendar. A few sentences in, I’ll admit, I stopped listening. It was hours later when I learned what the message was really talking about; threats of violence, planned for today, from a student at our local high school. Facebook airwaves went crazy with parents weighing in on this horrible topic and I went to bed, like other parents, worrying about my kids.
Two things from that online conversation, in which I was only a stalker, stood out:
Parenting is not for wimps.
Our world is scary.
As I fell asleep with my parental concerns, the rest of the world did, too. Except for 20 parents, it really was the last night before the end of their world. When they kissed their kids goodbye this morning, they had no idea.
Somewhere, evil was at work. Who knows why he did it or what his story was, but he unleashed terror on a small, quaint town and 20 tiny souls with their whole lives yet to live. His “why” and his story don’t matter. Nothing matters to me except what he took from this world.
Nothing happened at our local high school, thank God. But it happened nonetheless.
I was working today and didn’t see the coverage until late. Nothing that I write here will be enough. All I can think is that something has gone terribly wrong. Something important needs to be fixed. I feel like packing up our three kids and two dogs and heading somewhere remote. Somewhere I can control. Somewhere I can keep my kids safe. Somewhere. Where is that?
Tonight, two weeks before Christmas, I pray for comfort for all those touched by this senseless, senseless act.
At this moment, the loss is too much for me – how will they survive?
Sometimes there is just no good to grab.