There are a few people that I have been waiting to hear the wisdom and hope that some of my other blogging friends will offer in the aftermath of what happened in Newton, Connectiut.
Check out Patti Digh and Kim Maihot for their perspectives and the hope they offer.
Please read Hannah's love letter. She says this better than anything that I could ever hope to say.
To whoever finds this letter,
It's been one of those days where I've wished I could reach you in a real kind of way.
It's been one of those days where, if it were at all possible, I'd sit down and hand write you a letter that hit in all the right places. I'd find a way to show up in your mailbox. I'd navigate the states, the country lines, and miles of highway, to get a piece of me to you. A piece of love that would hold you much better than I know how.
The world feels broken tonight. Tender. Torn. The tears are rolling and the holiday lights blink duller than yesterday. Amazing Grace is streaming and I don't feel like wiping the black stains off my cheeks. And I know I'm not the only one who needs a love letter right now. We all might need one... To pick us up. To carry us through. To remind us of our strength & our solidarity & the truth: there are never any words for a tragedy like this.
No words for the sadness that slips beneath the door. No words for the pain that sits heavy on the chest. No words for the "sorry" that seems too small. No words for the evil that feels so real.
No, there are no words for a bit of this.
This is my wordless love letter. For the pain we cannot shoulder. For the burden we cannot hold. For the questions that go unanswered in the night. For the candles that flicker for the lives of precious little ones, gone too soon. This is my only way to say that I still believe in love and the power it holds to hold us all, when the tears refuse to stop, and the pain is thick & angry, and we've lost all sense of understanding of what it means to "be strong" and "hold tight."
If it were quite possible, I’d find the sunlight in this darkness and drop it at your door. Crack open all the windows. Wipe clean the empty. Suck your pain up like a vacuum. Pull you close and hold you. I’ve got no words but love never really needed syllables anyway.
And it never takes us any words to hold each other tighter than yesterday. Or kiss each other harder than tomorrow even knows. No, it never takes us any words to sit beside a friend. And give one another the attention we deserve. And be fierce with our kindness. And be intentional with our ways. No, these are wordless kinds of things. They are the acts of love that always quiet the words & hush out the tragedy. They are the acts of love we need to carry in our arms to replace the pain we've found is just too hard to hold.
And so I only pray you're held right now. Held by a love with has no tipping point. Held & held & held until the sun falls down behind the hills. Held in the morning. Held through the storm. Held like the strong arms of the Mama on the subway who finds a spot to sit and wrap her arms so tight around a child she loves beyond silly, little words. She holds that child with a triumph that makes you believe there could be no evil at all.
That's how I pray you're held and wrapped so good in Love. Cloaked so good in Love. A fierce kind of love that breaks all boundaries.
I hope tonight you find arms wrapped around you. Find the resting. Find the prayers. Find the strength. Find the friends. Find the unity. Find the dawn.
Find the good within his smile, the glow with her hands. Find the compassion on the street corners. And the bravery in the hallways. Find yourself in all this clutter and know that you are loved tighter than yesterday. And find that you are capable of the love that this world needs out of you. And yes, and yes, it needs that love from you so badly.
Find & find & find.
But don’t try to find the words right now. There are no words for a bit of this.
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