Only at Christmas Time

None of the posts kicking around my head right now seem quite right.

I, like many around the world, am still reeling from the horrific events of last Friday . . . but my flood of thoughts and feelings is nothing compared to the devastation felt by those directly affected by the shooting in Connecticut.

I will likely say more on this matter in the future. For now, my heart is with the families of every person--all of them--affected by this tragedy. 

As I held my little boy while he slept on Saturday, I kept thinking about all of those parents who once held their babies just the same way. I expect most or even all of the people at the school last Friday have had a parent hold them close, whisper in their ear, hope for their future, and give them sweet kisses. Not a one of them ever dreamed this for their sweet little baby.

Holidays are tough when you've lost someone precious. They are forever changed. Even more so for these families, with the anniversary of these unspeakable events coming every year as they prepare for Christmas. Christmas is when we tell the story of a sweet little baby, born to do amazing things, born to endure horror, born to save the world. I am thinking of his mother and father, and all of the mothers and fathers grieving in Connecticut and around the world, and my heart is singing this humble prayer.

Rest in Peace, sweet little angels, and peace to all of the souls who have loved you.