The Right Prevail

What kind of grief attaches to our hearts, latches on, saps us of cheer and laughter, and brings us to a crumpled, tearful mess?  The grief felt across our nation tonight, as parents and grandparents fall asleep without their cherished children in their arms.  Empty beds.  Tear-stained faces.

I sit, across the country, my heart broken for those in Newtown, CT.  I have no babies of my own to hug and grasp tightly tonight, but oh how I pray for them as if they were mine already.

Condolences seem...  trite.
Words... empty.
Pain and loss... so very real.

"And in despair I bowed my head,
'There is no peace on earth,' I said.
'For hate is strong and mocks the song of
Peace on earth, goodwill toward men.'

Then pealed the bells more loud indeed,
'God is not dead, nor doth He sleep!
The Wrong shall fail, the Right prevail
With peace on earth, goodwill to men!'"

Go hug your babies one more time for me.  Kiss their forehead.  Dry their tears.  God is NOT dead, nor is He asleep.