Terror, Lies, and Ariana Grande

I have been toying with the idea of reviving my blog for awhile now. Tonight as I looked through my two dormant sites, it didn't seem right to pick up where I'd left off. Too much has happened to attempt to bridge all the gaps and tie up all the loose ends. So, I will start fresh here. Now.

I thought that I would start with something funny and then something altogether not funny happened and I found myself in that numb place within myself where I tend to shelter until the world feels a little safer. And even when I do come out from hiding I know that I've done so based on a lie because the world isn't safe...not at all. Some days I don't know whether it's the violence or the lies that bother me most. I never played up Santa Clause with my child because I couldn't bear the thought of lying to her for 8-10 years and then one day crushing her with the truth. Yet, tonight, when she walked into the living room and asked what happened I told her that it was a weird thing at a concert and some people got hurt. I know too well that "those people" were probably kids her age or a little older and that several died. It's too much to think that parents sent their kids to a concert, probably nervous because it was the first time, and that hours later they are desperately scouring a city searching for their babies and fearing the worst. I signed up for changing diapers and sending brownies for school events. I didn't sign up for explaining to my child why kids died at an Ariana Grande concert and I don't know how to do it. The ask feels way too big right now.

I'll leave this here for now and come back tomorrow or the next day when the terror feels a little further away...a little bit more like something that doesn't happen to people who live in cities like mine or to children who look like mine. For the remainder of the night, I will hold those families and those children close in my thoughts and whatever prayers I can piece together. Dona nobis pacem.