I am watching it again.
The world gone mad.
Women and children targeted.
I don’t know how to respond.
I hesitate even as I write this, knowing that women and children in Syria have been under attack for much longer.
But I come back to this:
Suffering is suffering.
Loss is loss.
Death is death.
Comparison is always unhelpful.
I feel helpless watching the vision, so I turn it off.
Because I have that privilege.
Because it wasn’t me.
I won’t be haunted by those images for days, and weeks, and years to come.
And ‘cause I can’t stop crying.
I pray, ‘Lord, heal our broken world.’
And I call my husband just to hear his voice.
And I want to go down to the school and hug my kids.
But I won’t, ‘cause that would worry them.
And I stand in the kitchen not sure what to do next.
Because making a cup of tea, and carrying on seems heartless and unfeeling.
And I pray, ‘Peace be with them.
Peace be with us all.’