It's Good to Remember: Columbine

I lurve myself a good joke.  In fact, humor is one of God's most precious gifts to me, in good times, and especially in bad times.  I've been so grateful for a giggle or guffaw, whether inappropriate or not, when stressed, worried, or sad. 

But sometimes, there is nothing funny to say.  Not a quip.  Not a sassy one-liner, complete with wink and hair-toss. 

Sometimes we just need to sit in a bit of grief and remember.  Sometimes, it's okay to be wrecked in remembrance, if only for a moment.  Then, life moves forward, as it will and, as it should. 

Thirteen years ago today, I had one child in preschool and one child with me, as I ran errands.  I had  run to the post office, and had just fastened my baby girl into her car seat, ready to run back to get her brother, as it was nearly time for morning preschool to let out.  I was probably hurrying.  An ordinary day.  Except when I turned on the radio, I heard words that didn't make sense.  Words impossible to process--a story unfolding, which was as unbelieavable as it was true. 

I post this not to be gruesome or dramatic, but to remember.  To remember how quickly peace was shattered that day, and to remember the grieving parents, teachers, and students.  Hell visited Colorado that day, just 17 miles from my house.  Friends of mine and their friends took children to far too many funerals that year--more than most of us will attend in our lifetimes.  Life is short, and we must "love the one's we're with..."

But I can't leave you with this, alone.  I leave you with another clip.  Hope from ashes.  God's able hand working something good from something horrific:  Please click here.

We are...Columbine.