Yesterday’s shootings in CT have left me chilled, heartsick, and quiet. Breaking the silence to share a few things that I think we’ve lost as a nation, beyond the tragedy of the lives that were taken, a pool of grief and sorrow that I can’t begin to fathom. I only feel it’s slippery edges.
We’ve lost our ability to hope, and most of our trust. We grab at it in bits and pieces, but the fabric has become threadbare and full of gaping wounds. We hope that the government will fix it, or laws will curb it, but we look for somewhere to put the blame. We’ve lost the ability to filter our inputs, both physical and emotional, and it’s suffocating us. We’ve lost sight of forgiveness. We’ve lost our ability to look at wrongs without thinking of revenge and payback. We’ve stopped assuming personal responsibility for our lives. We’ve lost the ability to lift each other up, day after day, without a tragedy to wake us up, and that briefly. Why does it take a Sandy or a Newtown to make us look each other in the eye, and hold each other’s fragile hearts? Without love, we are empty. Without hope, we are lost. Without faith, we have no vision.
