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We’re all broken

A week ago Friday twenty year-old Adam Lanza walked into Sandy Hook elementary school in Newton, Connecticut with three guns and started shooting. He killed twenty children and seven other adults, including his mother, before killing himself.

I found it very difficult to function that day after hearing the news shortly after lunch. Since then I have enjoyed the time I’ve had with my daughters, so thankful they’re alive. And I should enjoy them. I have no guarantee of another day with them. If I were to stop enjoying them, only allowing sorrow, evil would win a small but significant victory. Nevertheless, I also need to feel the weight of what happened. I need to cry, to grieve, to groan, and to sit in silence and stillness. I may need to scream.

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On Jealousy

Jealousy has crept up and grabbed hold of me. It wasn’t a surprise. It was waiting there, beneath the surface, for the right catalyst to push it out into the light.

You see, I’m a part of a community. I like them. They like me. But sometimes I feel I’m never going to measure up. I stumble along, bumping into obstacles others avoided easily. In fact, nowhere do I sense my own immaturity more than when gathered with this family. While I know that’s a good thing, it doesn’t make it any easier to stay on the journey.