When Words Are Gone

Angel of Grief (Photo credit: eklektik2xs)

I have spent the last two days trying to wrap my head around the horrific tragedy that took place, not more than 200 miles from our home.  As a writer, I felt called to write something...but nothing came. As a mother and grandmother, I felt called to say something...but nothing came.  As a seminarian, I felt called to do something...and, when the moment came, I did what felt best. I hugged those closest to me; I told those, who I could not hug, that they were loved; and I sat down to share this on my blog.

Someone said to me, yesterday, that the world has become crazier.  I responded, after a brief pause with, "No it hasn't, we just hear about the craziness quicker and more often, now.  The world has always been this crazy."  Think about it...50 years ago, we had to wait at least 24 hours to hear about a major event happening in the US, it took even longer if the event was somewhere overseas.  Today, not only do we hear about it, but we can watch as it plays out, broadcasted via live stream from cellphones and androids.

The problem we have is that violence of any kind has become commonplace.  Where many would have gasped in horror at even the slightest mention of such events, now, many sit in front to TV's and computers watching as scene after scene is played out in vivid HD color.  

We, as a society, have become desensitized to most violence.  Not until something so horrific as 20 elementary children being gunned down, does the news hit the synapses in our brains, traveling faster than the speed of light to our hearts to rip huge holes in them.

Our Bridget, who is far from New England at the moment, wrote a very thoughtful piece on her blog, Road Less Traveled: Malawi.  She speaks of how around the world, children die of violence. Yet, we only focus on what is before our very faces.   She asks a profound question.  Are the lives of children in China, in the Congo, in South America any less precious than those in the US?  If not, then why aren't we as a nation, as a world community, not doing everything we can to stop the violence against ALL children?

I am blessed with four daughters and six grandchildren.  I look at each of their faces and I see such wonders, such joy.  Words cannot describe the Love I have for each of them.  Words cannot describe the pain that grips me like a vice over the deaths of any child - mine or another woman's.  Words cannot describe the fear that strangles my voice as I try to find something to say that will plant seeds of healing.

At times like these, spoken words just don't do what is needed to be done.  At times like these, actions DO speak louder than words.  Hug a child - hold a hand - wipe a tear - sit in silence - meditate, pray, chant - do something that brings you joy.  These are the actions that will help you and those around you to heal.  

When words are gone, we are left in silence.  In silence, let us plant seeds of hope, healing, love and peace.

Namasté!