But in light of the tragedy in Newtown, Connecticut, two days ago, THIS article has moved me in ways that I cannot even begin to explain.
Perhaps its the pastor in me. I don’t know. But I do know that there are precious people in my little town — more than I realize, I’m sure — who are silently suffering just like the dear mom who wrote this piece. Moms and dads and their troubled children that I wish I could hug and hold and feebly attempt to offer some much-needed comfort and long-lasting help.
When I read or hear a story like this, every fiber of my being pulsates with an all-consuming impulse to wave a magical wand and just “fix it.” But I have no want and I cannot fix it. Despite all of my years of formal training and in-the-trenches experience, I’m not sure I’d even know where to begin to help in these situations.
All I do know is that endless debates about the 2nd Amendment miss the mark completely. (Note: You are hearing that from someone who does not own a gun, and never has. Someone who loves freedom. But someone who, for the life of me, cannot figure out why anyone needs to own or otherwise have access to an assault rifle.)
The cries of the heart of this hurting mommy are worthy of — no, that’s not strong enough — DEMAND a national conversation. A conversation that results in us as a nation being willing to acknowledge that there are many Adam Lanzas out there. Ticking time-bombs, each being raised by a parent or parents just trying to survive one day to the next. Families in peril that desperately need our help.