I wish I could write about anything else, but I don't know if that would be possible. I've been thinking about those sweet children all day, and it would be a disservice not to acknowledge their short lives.
They're calling the Newtown, Conn., shooting the second deadliest since Virginia Tech. It's certainly the worst when it comes to children.
As a country, we've changed. I remember sitting in my church on September 11, 2001. We prayed for the victims and their families that night. And, across the country, believers and nonbelievers alike were putting aside their differences to pray. We came together as a country, and I remember it as a powerful feeling.
Since then, however, we've grown apart day by day. Our beliefs have become our identity: We plaster them over social media, just to make sure we're heard. And, if anyone disagrees, we're first in line to tell them how they're wrong.
It took mere hours for prayers to turn into platforms. "This is the result of guns in this country." "If only everyone had access to mental health care."
I understand that everyone has their opinions. I certainly have my own. But the day to release them is the day after the tragedy, not while parents are still filing into the firehouse, hoping to see their children.
I wish, for one day, that we could put aside our differences and mourn the loss of these children.
Everyone can learn a lesson from this event, not just "them." I know that there is change on the horizon. I know that, as a country, we will do what we can to prevent another occurrence like this.
But today let's go home, hug our children, and pray for the families who are setting one less plate at the dinner table and reading one less story at bedtime.