I read somewhere this morning that Friday was a "9-11 for teachers." Whoever it was that pointed that out is absolutely right. That is exactly how to explain it. It's also a personal, miserable hell for all of those parents and grandparents and aunts and uncles and brothers and sisters who are missing the brightest and best parts of their family units.
I think it has something to do with all those years I spent in Elementary schools. All those years that Fridays horror was a "what-if" nightmare. Oddly enough, I feel this first as a teacher -though I haven't been in a classroom for years now.
I remember reading a blog post once from a mother who happened to be at her son's school during a lock down. She mentioned how thankful she was she happened to be there that day because it was great comfort knowing since she was there, her son would be safe. I read through the post, realizing that she was under the impression that her son was just a job to her son's teacher. To the extended staff at the school. I wrote in the comment section that I was taking the liberty to speak not only for myself, but for every teacher I knew. We LOVE the children left to our care day in and day out and if it came down to it, we'd take bullets for those children. I meant every word.
As it turns out, I was right. Reports coming back from this massacre are that the adults who died, died in their best efforts to stop the mad-man, who really was just a child himself, and to shield their children from the danger. These brave women died for their classes.
Then there are the parents. I feel so deeply for them. I've been crying all weekend for them. For their loss. I am mourning with those that mourn. If only I could find a way to comfort!
A suggestion was put out on facebook yesterday, and I'd like to do it. It is to combat this misery with love and kindness. It is to do 28 acts of love & service for strangers. One act for every person who lost their lives on Friday. This will be a way to remember and to honor and to heal.
Love's the only house big enough for all the pain in the world. Love's the only house big enough for all the pain.
All this mess, days before Christmas.
I also read that people in the community of the school are taking down their Christmas decorations. Celebrating anything feels wrong to them at the moment. Understandably. But the good news is with or without Christmas decor, that Little Babe, the Holy One, the Son of God did come. He came to make us whole. He came to heal us, perfectly. His promises are sure and in times like this, He carries us.