I am not a crier, and on the rare occassion that I do cry, it is usually in a burst of rage or stress, and it is very short, and then it is over and I can move on with my day. But today, a day that will live in infamy much like September 11, 2001 or April 20, 1999, the tears started the moment I heard the news and have continued throughout the day, to the point where I have no more tears left to give.
I cried for the little ones who headed out the door this morning, grabbing lunchkits and backpacks, kissing their moms goodbye for the last time.
I cried for the moms who were out shopping last night, out buying one last gift for their little one.
I cried for the dads who heard the news at work and rushed frantically to the school in search for their children.
I cried for the lego and Barbies that won't be opened on Christmas morning.
I cried for the teachers who were planning activities for the last week of school and looking forward to their Christmas vacation.
I cried for the mom whose last moments on Earth were left gazing at her son as he killed her.
I don't know why this tragedy has affected me so deeply - there have been other recent tragedies, and while sad, they haven't thrown me into a state of catatonic depression. Maybe this was my "last straw", after being numbed by violence for so long, and they were just all bubbling below the surface, waiting to explode.
Can you imagine how God feels?
Tragedy after tragedy, not only gun violence, but human slavery, poverty, brutality, children dying in the streets of east Asian slums, building and building until we become numb to it all. It's just too overwhelming.
But as I was sharing my grief with a friend, I remembered something that my sister once said: You can't help everyone, but you can help one person at a time.
And one of my Pastors, half way around the world, comforted me unknowningly with his Revelation quote.
Yes, one day He will wipe away every tear, but until then, we will cry for the lost, and provide hope to all that we can. One person at a time.
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