I opened my eyes this morning gleaming at the fact that I had a day off and could sleep well pass 8:30. I stretched and realized that I could probably sleep for hours and not feel guilty about wasting half a day laying around in my bed with my pj's on but I thought to myself: "What does today hold?" I looked through my text messages and e-mails - zero new ones, of course. Then I scrolled through my Instagram feed and instantly caught wind of what happened in Newtown, Connecticut. And in that moment, it's like my entire world no longer mattered. My daily life, my ability to sleep on the comfiest of beds, my needs. None of it mattered anymore.
I shot out of my bed and ran into the living room dreading to hear the story and when I did, my entire heart broke. It broke for the 20 little souls who will never experience life: family, graduations, careers, children. I sat there with tears rolling down my face fearful and wondering "what if that happened here?" and "what if that happened at my job?!" and all I could think of was all of the children I work with day-in and day-out at my job and church.
An anger had erupted deep in my chest for the man who selfishly took the lives of those who woke up this morning probably thinking almost the same thing as I did. And a few hours later... they were gone. Gone like little whispers that travel through the air.
Twenty-six people - strangers to me - in one moment became a family member, a friend, a sister, a cousin, a sunday school student, a child at my workplace to me. They became close to me and as my heart broke with complete sadness, my heart became heavy.
So, with all the prayers I can pray for them and all the kind words I can write, hug your kids, hug the people you love and cherish every single moment, even the bad ones.