Twenty children and six adults were gunned down in a horrific act of evil last Friday. I'm old enough to remember Columbine clearly. I will always remember names like Cassie Bernall and Rachel Scott. I will always remember the moment when school shootings became a trend- that shift between the unthinkable to the real, the present, the inerasable. Much like being old enough to remember airport security pre-9/11, it's like living on the other side of a veil that you can't pass through again. These people, these children full of hatred and consumed by anger to the point of evil, changed our world, shook our foundations of what is sacred, and robbed our safety. But you know what? I don't remember the shooters' names. And I'm determined to forget Friday's murderer's name and forever remember at least a few of those precious little souls and brave teachers who didn't deserve what happened. I fully believe that the media glorifies these terrible acts impregnating these already unstable and perhaps marginalised people with this idea of going down in history. Much like some people prefer negative attention to no attention, it's better to be remembered for something terrible than not be remembered at all, right? Wrong. There's nothing worse than a legacy of hatred and destruction. No one says, "That Hitler guy did some terrible stuff but he sure knew how to command an army... impressive." He's one of the worst things that happened to this world. Try to leave this earth with people wishing you weren't gone, not wishing you hadn't been here at all.

So, I won't remember you. I feel sorry for your mother, I feel sorry for the circumstances that brought you to this point. I feel sorry for the fact that you killed yourself and are now a lost soul. Your life counted. God loves you, you were a beautiful baby 20 years ago like everyone else. But when you made the choice to take out your pain on the most innocent of creatures... when you allowed your dysfunction to turn you into a monster, a villain of fairy-tale proportions, you lost my sympathy. My sympathy is with those children who spent their last moments terrified in a way that makes it hard for me to breathe just thinking about it. My sympathy is with Victoria who hid her students and then stood there, facing him, knowing he would kill her but using her last breaths to make sure he didn't look for those kids in that classroom. I'm not the mother of any of those kids who hid in those closets and cupboards, miraculously quiet enough, waiting to be rescued as they heard the gunshots that took their beloved teacher's life. But on behalf of all mothers, I want to thank her. 

As a mother, I can hardly watch the news. No details or elaborated stories are going to make this any more real to me. I fully understand the extent of this loss. I don't have to know every victim's story to know that each and every one of them was the absolute world to the people who loved them. I don't have to watch hours of updates to grasp that this is the epitome of unfair, unjust. Instead, I just go hold my son, who's too young to get that all I want him to do is stop squirming for a minute and let me hold him for the rest of his life! I brought him to school this morning, fairly confident that the school he attends is safe, fairly confident that I will see him this afternoon the way I see him every afternoon. I'm a mum so I already pray over him every day. I already hug him every moment like it could be the last, I already tell him I love him like it's the most important thing he needs to learn and remember in life. I'm proud to say I never really take him for granted. He's too much of a blessing for me to just get used to having. But we all get into the monotony of routine and busyness. Sometimes discipline is more important in the moment than a cuddle; sometimes harsh words are needed above encouragement. I believe correction and discipline ARE love and are necessary. But something like this happens and you want to never get mad at them again. You want to make them smile all day long, take them out of school, quit your job, and just spend all day every day baking and crafting and snuggling. And there's that tiny voice inside every time you walk away from them, every time you drive away from them... The voice that says the things I won't even say out loud right now. The fear, the what if... And it gets a little louder at times like this. You're scared to even acknowledge it, you're scared to give it power... but it already has power, doesn't it?

I like to think that I'm a pray-er. Every Christian is supposed to be, but I like to think I take prayer more seriously than most. But it's a time thing, isn't it? I can talk to God as I go through my day, I can bring Him along into my schedule, and I'm not saying that isn't good because any opportunity to share with God is good. But do I take enough time to come to Him or do I just ask Him to come to me when it's convenient for me? And for a single, working mother, when is anything ever convenient? I get into bed exhausted and always manage to waken more exhausted on the other side of night. I'm starting to think sleep is a conspiracy that actually drains you because that's my experience. I pray at night, I pray in the morning but this morning... this first school day after another veil was dropped on this world, I woke up when my alarm, that I deliberately set early so I can snooze it, went off. I rolled over, wide awake to where my son was sleeping next to me, I held him- as he batted me away because he's a violent sleeper- and I prayed. Prayed with fear. Fear of what I can't control, fear of not being a good enough pray-er to have my prayers honored, fear of not trusting God enough to take from me the burden of unknown consequence that I insist on carrying. Being a mother is like being a risk-assessor. If you've ever watched Along Came Polly, Ben Stiller's character is my brain, only my brain is 10x worse and it's running on mum fuel, which is apparently inexhaustible so you can imagine how out of hand my thought processes can get. 

Do I trust God with my kid or do I only trust Him with me? Do I believe that God loves my son more than I do or do I just think that's what I'm supposed to believe? Did God love those children as much as he loves mine? Because I want Him to love mine more, protect mine more, shield us better, honor my prayers above others. I'm being brutally honest here and saying what we're all feeling, so if you're judging my spirituality right now, you're clearly not a parent. But I am a parent and what I need to do is show my son how to be, how to feel, how to live. I need to be an example so what's my example? Living in fear? Living to make it from sunrise to sunset safely? I need to teach him to be cautious, I need to teach him to have the healthy fear that stops you from doing stupid things. But will I let these monsters- real monsters, not the kind you promise your children aren't under the bed, the potent kind that actually exist way beyond the safety and comfort of bed- rob my joy, rob my security ...rob my faith? Will I let them win? Or will I stand up for the good, teaching my son to be good, to be a light in this world corrupted by darkness? Will I show him how to be courageous and defend what's right even when cowards are threatening you, bullying you, hurting you? Is it more important to stay intact physically or to thrive in character and spirit? I know the right answers here. Yes, there are a million things to be afraid of in this world. Yes, any day could be our last. Any moment could bring total decimation to our worldview, security, and what we hold dear. But it seems like evil is winning. And I won't let it win with me, with my house. So, we will go to school every day, and I will pray like our lives depend on it, because they do. You can't afford not to pray. It's your seat belt- it would be careless not to use it. 

Lord God, if we've ever needed you, it's now. If we ever needed to spend more time on our knees than on our phones and computers, it's now. If we ever needed to take this world back and say, "No! Enough is enough. We won't let society degrade and accept it as inevitable. As for me and my house, we will serve the Lord. We will be compassionate, we will raise healthy children who spread love and hope and joy faster and more deeply than the wildfires of hatred and anger. We will be the difference needed, we will trust in God with reckless abandon and we will spend every day of our lives renewing the light that is so easily extinguished and we will change this world. You tore the ultimate veil, You can tear these ones, too." ...it's now. 

Proverbs 3:5-6 

"Trust in the Lord with all your heart and lean not on your own understanding; in all your ways submit to him and he will make your paths straight."

Psalm 4:8

"I will lay down and sleep in peace, for you alone, O Lord make me dwell in safety."

Philippians 4:7

"Then you will experience God's peace, which exceeds anything we can understand. His peace will guard your hearts and minds as you live in Christ Jesus."

May the peace of the Lord be with these families as they try to heal from this tragedy.