But now some of that numbness is wearing off, and I can think more about what has happened, and it is not an easy thing to do. I have four kids. I have pictured in my mind what it might be like to be one of the parents of a child who lost her life at school that day. My kids are at school right now. Are they sitting attentively in class while the teacher explains how to conjugate a verb? Are they laughing with their friends in the cafeteria? Will the school day today end like the last one, with smiling kids coming in the house to tell me about their day?
Or will it end like the day did in Connecticut last week? I think about what that might be like...coming home to the still-unmade bed where she got up that morning; lying there and smelling the unmistakable smell of your child and knowing that it is fading and will never be back again. The sibling, looking at the Legos that he was playing with along with the sister that will not be back to finish the fort, and not able to make any sense of it. The grandparent, with the cute packages already wrapped and under the Christmas tree, with her name on the sticker, packages which won't be opened by the one for whom they were lovingly prepared.
I hurt so much for those families.
I found this statement from a pastor in Newtown, in this blog post. It helps, a bit. But I don't know anything that can really help other than the strength that God Himself can provide an individual at a time like this. Here's a quote from the blog-
It has to be noted that this kind of sin and horrible loss is not absent in the pages of Scripture. Job had his family murdered by the devil, and Job responded with a heart of faith: “The Lord gives, and the Lord takes away. Blessed be the name of the Lord.” And Job’s faith in the sovereign hand of God must remain ours now.
At the same time, we remember that Job also asked “why?” as we are prone to do. We must realize, however, that God never answered Job’s why question, nor did he permit Job to question his wisdom. Instead, God simply pointed Job back to his own glorious character, sovereignty and wisdom. And Job found a place of blessedness when he rested there. His blessing came by resting in the glorious purposes of God. I think we want answers, but God does not give us answers. Instead, he reveals his character and glory. And that is faith—leaning on the sovereign hand of God. Not knowing why, but knowing who to lean on through the loss. God does not answer our questions; he IS our answer.
I have opinions, and some strong ones, on what should be done to prevent this. I have strong opinions on the wrong responses as well, and these are the very things that I see starting to happen within the government and in the media as well. But right now is probably not the time to focus on how to respond to the foolishness of a secular culture and a secular government, as much as it is time to weep with those who weep, and try to find good things (God-glorifying things) to say to those who have questions they can't answer, and of course to pray for the relief from pain through which the families of those kids are now walking. It's every parents' worst fear, and it is a pain that cannot really be imagined, I think, until it happens. And even then, there are no words to describe it.
If it weren't for God's grace, and the assurance I have in Christ; if I lived in a world of nihilistic existence, I would not retain my sanity. I could not maintain a grip on life itself, and the only question left, like Hume had to ask, would be when to effect my own demise. This grace and this assurance are the message we must continue to communicate to those in our (very demonstrably) lost world.
Humanistic solutions will fail. Secular methods of comfort will remain cold and empty. Only the assurance of a reason to exist; of a loving and sovereign God, can begin to help us answer the questions we have or provide us with any comfort in life and in death.