Today there is weeping. Not just crying, but weeping. A weeping that comes because there is no other way to adequately express what is going on inside of us. When we feel sorrow beyond words, we weep.
Today, sadly, we weep for children.
These children who lost their lives today in Connecticut were not my children. I don’t even know their names. But they could have been my children. Or yours. We can’t even begin to imagine what living that horror must be like.
And so we weep.
Senseless acts such as this are heard of far too often. Perhaps at times we are guilty of having grown horribly and inexcusably numb to hearing about it.
But today was different.
Today was Kindergarten.
We do not know all the details, and we don’t have to know them. I don’t care if I ever know them.
All I need to know is that Today we will grieve with these families, we will pray for them, and we will weep with them. These were American kids at an American school that experienced what should never ever be. These are all the details I need to know.
I am reminded of an old hymn by Albert Midlane:
“There’s a Friend for little children Above the bright blue sky, A Friend who never changes, Whose love will never die;”
And then I remembered that Jesus wept. Jesus wept specifically for a friend who had died. And then I thought that somewhere today, Jesus must be weeping. It has been said that there is a special Providence in the fall of a sparrow, that He knows and dearly loves every one of them, and that not one falls without His knowing. Each life is precious.
In this dark hour, we know that there is hope waiting at the end of tragedy.
We know sorrow will one day give way to peace.
But for today, we pray for comfort, we offer comfort, and as we try to explain this tragedy to our kids, we weep.