As I read about the school children killed in Pakistan, I don’t know how to handle it. It’s a reality too horrific to understand.
I go about my ordinary day and feel the cold rain on my face as I walk children to school. I return to clean the bathroom and think of the people in the world who wish for just one ordinary day when nothing terrible happens, when nobody dies and nobody is hurt. I shop at the grocery store and choose crisp apples for my cart. I greet excited children after school who gather about me and organize play dates. I wipe down a counter. I brush my hair. I listen to a daughter play piano.
This is an ordinary day.
Everything suddenly seems so precious, too precious to really understand: this peaceful neighborhood, these school children, this warm home with lazy cats beside me.
The apple I eat seems too good to be true–too privileged–in light of the horrors all over the world.
So many people are suffering today. Oh, Lord, help us. Help us now. We need you.