Trying to cope with the Sandy Hook Elementary shooting

I'm not going to lie---I've been a little depressed, and a little sick to my stomach since the news of the Sandy Hook Elementary School shooting.

Maybe it's the initial shock of hearing the amount of deaths of children.

Maybe it's knowing how it must affect a good friend of mine, Kara, who's from Newtown.

Maybe it's how it breaks my sister's heart, and how she must be hugging her boys a little bit closer.

Maybe it's the fact that I too work at a elementary school and can't begin to imagine if it were to happen here.

Maybe it's finding out how it's made my own father cry, and no one wants to imagine, or see, or hear about his own father crying.

Maybe it's about seeing this father cry: 

And maybe it's because that I, like many, am confused by it all, wondering why this could happen, seeking for answers I'm yet to find.

What still stays true for me:
Amongst the evil in our world, I know there is still a God who's heart must be aching for us all and for His children.

I still believe in love and how strongly it can heal. Getting to marry the most beautiful woman in my world is enough evidence for me.

It's OK for men to cry.

There must be hope after this and light after this darkness.

The best solace I have found is this prayer from Max Lucado that my principal of Saint Francis International School has shared with our children's families.  It gives me the best hope I can find during this time of the year:

Dear Jesus,

It's a good thing you were born at night.

This world sure seems dark. 

I have a good eye for silver linings.

But they seem dimmer lately.

These killings, Lord.

These children, Lord.

Innocence violated.

Raw evil demonstrated.

The whole world seems on edge.

Trigger-happy. Ticked off.

We hear threats of chemical weapons

and nuclear bombs.

Are we one button-push away from annihilation?

Your world seems a bit darker this Christmas.

But you were born in the dark, right?

You came at night.

The shepherds were nightshift workers.

The Wise Men followed a star.

Your first cries were heard in the shadows.

To see your face, Mary and Joseph needed a candle flame.

It was dark.

Dark with Herod's jealousy.

Dark with Roman oppression.

Dark with poverty.

Dark with violence.

Herod went on a rampage, killing babies.

Joseph took you and your mom into Egypt.

You were an immigrant before you were a Nazarene.

Oh, Lord Jesus, you entered the dark world of your day.

Won't you enter ours?

We are weary of bloodshed.

We, like the wise men, are looking for a star.

We, like the shepherds, are kneeling at a manger.

This Christmas, we ask you, heal us, help us, be born anew in us.

Hopefully,

Your Children

---
 Amén.