One could go on and on forever talking about anything, but I'll just touch on it here.

Sunday, February 18, 2018

Nighttime I Love Yous

"I love you to the moon and back!"

"And I love you to the moon and back!"

"I love you more!"

"I love you more!"

"I love you most!"

"I love you most!"

Geddy and I go back and forth like this as I snuggle him to sleep. Last night he chimed in with a new one.

"I love you to freedom and back!"

"What is freedom?"

"Freedom is the mostest loveness."

My heart is full like the moon.

Thursday, February 15, 2018

In the Words

Songs that came to mind this morning:

"When the Children Cry," by White Lion

"Give Me Something to Believe In," by Poison

"Mad World," by Tears for Fears

"Show Me the Way," by Styx

"The Sound of Silence," covered by Disturbed (fresh in my soul after the French couple in the pairs figure skating competition rocked the tears down my face last night)

The list grows as I listen to the music. From my childhood, from now, the poetry in the words addresses several levels of pain we inflict on the world and the world on us. Right now our nation is drowning in the pain. What do we offer for healing? All we have are words.

I remarked to a friend yesterday that I remember exactly where I was and what I was doing when I heard about Columbine, but every mass shooting after is getting lost in the wicked smear of familiarity. I'm still crying but worried my tears will dry up. Will I succumb to the numb response, "My thoughts and prayers are with you" but in the normalcy of terror forget to pray? Will I type these words, wipe my tears, and forget this Valentine's Day?

What comes to mind: The pen is mightier than the sword; however, Actions speak louder than words.

What can we do?

Christians believe the madness will only get worse. The end has a light, but until then do we sit by and wait, saying it's just how it's meant to be?

Jesus said Go, do, love. What would he do with all of this? What is he doing? If we are his hands and feet, what will we do? What are we doing?

Arguing about rights and freedoms and equality and inequality and government hands off and government responsibility and rules and laws and fairness and unfairness all ends up just being more words.

I'm stuck. The sadness, the fear, the blaming, the hatred stir sickness inside me, and I want to hide or leave.

But I won't, because it's not all about me. It's about my child, your child, everyone's child. In my bewildered state I don't have answers for what to do, but I don't want to be a person "hearing without listening." We've got to work together "to a better day for all the young," or artists will keep singing the tragedies as we "turn on the news to find we've so far to go."