Lord, Make Me an Instrument of Your Peace

that where there is hatred, I may bring love
that where there is wrong, I may bring the spirit of forgiveness
that where there is discord, I may bring harmony
that where there is error, I may bring truth
that where there is doubt, I may bring faith
that where there is despair, I may bring hope
that where there are shadows, I may bring light
that where there is sadness, I may bring joy.

Lord, grant that I may seek rather to comfort than to be comforted
to understand than to be understood
to love than to be loved.
For it is by self-forgetting that one finds.
It is by forgiving that one is forgiven.
It is by dying that one awakens to eternal life.

Prayer of St. Francis

Did you cry yesterday? I did. I cried today too. I simply cannot imagine taking Oliver to preschool and never being able to see him again, to live beside him as he grows, to spend time and converse with him, to laugh and dance with him, to watch him turn into a man.


I can't imagine — as hard as I try, I cannot.

And I thank God that I cannot imagine.

My heart goes out to the families who lost their children. To the mothers... how devastating. To the fathers. To the grandmas and grandpas. Brothers and sisters. Friends. Family.

But mostly to those mothers. The pain is unimaginable.

And so I pray.

I'll leave you with this:

There is no crime greater than violence against children, no sorrow greater than that of a parent who has lost a child, especially in this horrible way. Our hearts are broken for those parents who found out their children — little more than babies, really — were wounded or killed, and for those who agonized for hours before taking their traumatized children home.

The New York Times