Feast of the Seven Fishes

I recently posted a picture of the first ornaments to go on our tree to Facebook, as a Christmas family tradition of ours and asked for other's traditions. This is a picture of my 67 year old baby rattle.  Yes, our baby rattles are the first ornaments on our tree.  Our family tradition.

 A friend, Karen Hess of Karen's Monday Musings Blog, posted that her family does the Feast of Seven Fishes every Christmas Eve.  I asked what it was and she said, "It's an Italian tradition we celebrate on Christmas Eve, Helen.  Seven fish dishes are served.  No meat or dairy is eaten, so the fish is baked or fried in olive oil. We've always remembered the 7 Sacraments through this tradition, but there are other interpretations as well."  

I didn't grow up with many Christmas traditions, but I have always treasured the ones that I did.  When I married, Ron and I took our family traditions and blended them.  That meant some got changed, but that was okay too.  They were now our family traditions.  

In our family, going to Mass was and is an important part. We tried Christmas Eve, Midnight Mass, over the years and some years it worked and some it didn't.  Before children, it was something we loved.  Especially, our first two years in Pittsburgh, as we walked to our church in the cold, snowy night.  As the children came along, Midnight Mass was not at all the thing to do, until they were older and it became a tradition again.  As the kids have moved onto adulthood and grandchildren have come along, the 4:30 PM Children's Christmas Eve Mass has become our tradition, with dinner at our house afterwards.  Shrimp is always on our menu, but we have never had seven fish or seafood dishes.  This Seven Fishes idea kind of tickled an interest in me.

I did some research on my own and from what I can figure out, Karen is right on with the Seven Sacraments as a connection to the seven fishes. However, some think it has to do with the seven days of creation or the seven days it took Mary and Joseph to travel to Bethlehem (I don't think I ever knew it took them seven days).  I read that some people talked to people in Italy and they knew nothing of this tradition, so it seems maybe it was the Italian immigrants who came here wanting to create a new tradition that would somehow link them to their roots in Italy.  Italy is a long and narrow country, where most are not far from the sea.  Seafood must have been a staple to them.  It makes sense to me, that this would be something that was a common Christmas Eve meal. Why not have Christmas Eve, a time when fasting from meats as a Catholic was a faith tradition, a time for feasting on fish or seafood after celebrating the birth of Christ.  

So, here I am 12 days before Christmas thinking of how I can bring this tradition into our 47 year old family.  We already serve shrimp. I only need to add six more.  Unfortunately, I am not sure the entire family will be as enamored with the idea as I am.  One son dearly loves anything from the sea. I am not sure his lovely wife does.  I am also not sure the other son and his wife would want only seafood on the table. But, the love the sea, so maybe. Our daughter and family will not be home for Christmas this year, so I have another whole year to find out about her. I know the hubby and I would be fine with it.  We love just about anything of or from the sea. 

So, what do you think?  Should I go for it?  I might stir up the water of this family a bit.  Maybe the fun of sharing the legend behind this would be as much fun as the food would be delicious.  But then again, we don't have a drop of Italian blood in us.  Does that matter?

Dia de los Muertos

From the beginning of time, we as humans have had the need to understand and explain the mystery of life and of death.  Throughout history, many civilizations and cultures have created, out of this need, rituals to attempt to understand and give meaning to human existence.  

Dia de los Muertos, is one of the ways this is done in the Hispanic culture.  It is commonly known as the "day of the dead".  Tucson has a long history of Hispanic culture.  Being a border town, the history continues and grows.  Much like my memory of Memorial Day growing up in a small northwestern town in Pennsylvania, where we took potted plants and planted them at family members grave sites, in loving memory of that person, the Hispanics celebrate the rituals attached to Dia de los Muertos.  

The difference is in how they do it.  They may also take flowers to a grave site, or they may not know where that grave site is and/or they build an "altar" to that person or persons.  The altar can be simple or elaborate.

This is a simple one at San Xavier Mission on Dia de los Muertos, 2013.  People put pictures of their loved ones and things that they loved while walking their earthly path.  There is a bowl of beans for a loved one who loved beans.  One man shared with me that he puts a bottle of Tequila on his altar, in memory of his father who loved his Tequila. 

Very early in October, all over the Latin American countries and many cities in the United States, bakeries offer the delicious Pan de Muerto, Day of the Dead bread.  It is made with flour, butter, sugar, eggs, orange peel, anise and yeast.  The bread is decorated with strips of dough; simulating bones and at the top, you will see a small round piece of dough that symbolizes teardrops. These breads are placed on the altars as ofrendas or offerings, and are also often taken to the graves of their loved ones.

Yesterday, I experienced another way that the people of Tucson, Mexico and even further away from the United States, come to honor and celebrate the life of loved ones.  Many come, not of this culture, and not really knowing anyone personally, but come to honor the life that was. 

It is a pilgrimage to the beautiful and historic San Xavier Mission -- Tucson's White Dove of the Desert to honor those who have died in the desert during the past 12 months while attempting to enter the United States illegally.  This day is not about how they came or why they came, it is about the fact that the desert is a cruel path to walk for the dream of citizenship or an opportunity to provide more for your family than what you were able in your own country.  It is about the agony of death in the desert, the fear and loneliness that must have been felt.  As I waited for Ron and the group who were making this pilgrimage  I noticed a circle with white crosses.  I discovered that this is the crosses from previous years.  That is a lot of crosses, with more to come.  

About 50 people walked 8 miles yesterday in solidarity with those who had lost their lives in the desert. That is a mere fraction of the miles these people travel, in their attempt.  Each person walking carried a cross or crosses with the name of the deceased to symbolize the person who had died.  Most were unknown.  Alma, a woman from our church, who is Hispanic walked in thin rubber flip flops, because she knows that is all many of those who are found had on their feet.  

As we stood around that circle, a woman read off the names of those who had names and the person with that cross placed it around the circle.  And then, those without names were placed around the circle.  A Franciscan priest from San Xavier went around the circle with Holy Water, blessing each soul who had been placed there.  

It was a more solemn occasion than the way most celebrations of Dia de los Muertos are. How can we celebrate a life we have never known?  For those who had loved ones there, maybe someone put something on the altar in front of the Mission.  For those without a name, what do we know about them?  Can you imagine seeing your loved one leave home and never see them again.  And worse yet, you never know what has happened to them.  You don't know if they are dead or alive and every year when you hear about this pilgrimage in Tucson on Dia de los Muertos, you wonder if your loved one's cross is being placed in that circle.

I was quite emotional as I saw the pilgrims approaching.  I was choked up as Ron embraced me with his crosses in his hands.  I am not like him.  I cannot go out into the desert and help the migrants.  I cannot walk those eight miles on Dia de los Muertos.  My heart breaks when I think about each and everyone of these people who come like so many before them through the desert or like my ancestors and yours who reached the shores of Manhattan and saw the Statue of Liberty and thought about the words engraved on her base, 

“Give me your tired, your poor, 

Your huddled masses yearning to breathe free, 

The wretched refuse of your teeming shore. 

Send these, the homeless, tempest-tossed, to me: 

I lift my lamp beside the golden door. "

Maybe instead of building walls on our borders and watching people die of thirst, of hunger or from the elements of the weather, we could put a new Statue of Liberty on our borders and welcome the huddled masses who yearn to breathe free.  

Until then, I guess I will wait for Ron at these memorial services and I will pray that the day will come when all will be welcome and there will be no borders on any land in any country of this world.  I will pray that the day will come when no one will cross the desert in hopes of a better life...they will be welcomed anywhere at any time.  

The Smile of Reims

The history of the Cathedral at Rheims (Reims - prounounced rance, as in France) is quite amazing. The foundation stone was laid in 1211. There was a labyrinth in the floor of the Cathedral with the four architects who designed this Gothic structure represented in the four corners of it. The labyrinth was destroyed in 1779.

The Cathedral was nearly destroyed itself in World War I.   Twenty-five French Kings were crowned in the present Cathedral. It seems that no King of France at that time would be considered a proper King, if not crowned at the Cathedral of Reims.  There is a statue inside the Cathedral, as well as outside of St. Joan of Arc, because of her role in the crowning of King Charles VII of France.  I was especially struck by the role that St. Joan of Arc played at Reims.  Her youth, her strength and her faith are certainly inspiring.  

The stained glass windows are breathtaking.  The light that streams through them changes as each ray changes throughout the day, creating thoughtful patterns across the walls and floors.

 Stories are told in the windows, tapestries and statues within and outside.  It seemed as if the entire Bible was portrayed in one or the other.  One could spend a week here and not be able to truly see or absorb it all.

The story and statue that I most enjoyed is that of the smiling angel.  

Through some research, I discovered that she might not have been smiling in her original form.  Though, I don't know if anyone knows for sure.  It appears she was quite damaged and placed in storage, partially repaired and then hidden again before she was completed restored and placed again on the structure.  She is on the Western Facade of the Left Portal (north) of the Cathedral. It was fortunate that I had a telephoto lens, as that entire area was fenced off for some repairs and restoration. I was so taken with her smile that the entire three week trip would have been worth just seeing her.  Her smile was joyful, playful, comforting and inspiring.  I heard her say to me, "you can do all things through faith, you are loved, you are precious in His eyes,  do not worry, trust, be compassionate,have hope, love others as you wish to be loved, do not judge, let go of all that prevents you from believing in the goodness of others and all that keeps you from love  Above all else, remember to love.."  Her sweet face is something I will carry with me forever.  If there is anything that a statue, a stained glass window or a tapestry should tell us, it is that.  To remember to love.

In my research, I found this poem and I think it gives a bit of clarity as to the message this angel brings.  

THE SMILE OF REIMS

"The smile," they called her,—"La Sourire";

            and fair—

   A sculptured angel on the northern door

   Of the Cathedral's west façade—she wore

Through the long centuries of toil and care

That smile, mysteriously wrought and rare,

   As if she saw brave visions evermore—

   Kings, and an armored Maid who lilies bore,

And all the glories that had once been there.

How like to thee, her undefeated Land!

   Wounded by bursting shells, a little space

      Broken she lay beneath her ancient portal;

But lifted from the earth with trembling hand,

   Victorious, still glowed upon her face

      Thy smile, heroic France, love-given and

            immortal!

Florence Earle Coates.

  

No matter what we go through in life, there is always hope and there is always love,  I think that is the pure message this sweet angel brings to all who enter Reims Cathedral.  

Chartres and The Labyrinth

    

I don't think I had any expectations about this trip.  I was filled with such gratitude about the opportunity, that I couldn't possibly have any.  Just being here would be enough.  And so it was...

After our long plane trip and another taxi and train to Chartres from Paris, I didn't think we would have the energy to even go to the Cathedral, but luck would have it, we could see it from our hotel room and knew it was an easy walk from there.  So, off we went. 

The Cathedral, in and of itself is spectacular.  You are awestruck from the moment your eyes gaze upon it from a distance and the closer you get, the more awestruck you are.  As we took it all in as we approached it and then went inside, I couldn't believe I was actually there.  The little girl from Western Pennsylvania's countryside has certainly wandered way beyond her roots.  Chasing rainbows, one might say.  Chasing something she has wondered about for years and now has the opportunity to see firsthand; not just in books or internet research. 

We did a quick walk through it, drinking in as much as we could with the energy we had left.  We paused on our way out, thinking about the next two days that we would have there.

The next day, we again made our way over to the Cathedral and drank in more of it.  Taking our time and sitting in various places to reflect upon it.  Thinking about how old this place was.  There is so much history to take in, when you visit a place like this. 

Chartres is a survivor.  It has survived a fire, the Crusades, WWII and the normal wear and tear of time.  Yet, somehow, it has survived and thrives today.  The labyrinth itself is still the original that was built over 800 years ago.  It was during the Crusades and the annual pilgrimage to the Holy Land, that the early Christians took each year, was impossible and dangerous.  The Roman church built over 20 labyrinths in the floors of various Cathedrals around Europe. It was to be a symbol for the Christians pilgrimage to the Holy Land. The people would make a pilgrimage to their local Cathedral and walk the labyrinth instead of the normal pilgrimage to the Holy Land.  I've read and been told that over the years, its use became out dated, unnecessary and the labyrinths around Europe disappeared.  They were either destroyed during the wars, taken out during renovations and restorations or simply not used anymore.  . Chartres is one of the very few that survived over the hundreds of years since this time.  How lucky we are that someone decided to revive the use and a few gems around the world, like Chartres, were discovered. 

And the day came when, suddenly, there I stood at the entrance to the Labyrinth in this amazingly old, beautiful and sacred space...one step at a time...so many others before me...in awe...I kept on walking...no great revelations...just a sense of peace and thanksgiving for having this opportunity.

How blessed we are to be able to travel all these miles and see this lovely, sacred space.  How blessed to sit awhile and reflect upon our lives; where we have been, what we have done and how we will spend the rest of our lives.  We will cherish this time.  This picture of Chartres Cathedral at night seems to sum up the peaceful, contemplative spirit of this beautiful and sacred space.

A Dream of Mine

Ever since I discovered the Labyrinth some ten plus years ago, I have yearned to come to Chartres.  When I found out it was only an hour out of Paris, I was so disappointed that I did not know this when I visited Paris with Ron years ago while he was on a business trip.  I honestly thought I would never have the opportunity to return.  Fate or destiny, has a way of bringing us where we are meant to be.
So, here I am, realizing I was but a dream away from this place all along.

After a very long trip of car to the airport, plane one to Dallas and then plane two to Paris and then n hour taxi to Gare Montparnasse for another hour to Chartres by train, we arrived very tired.  We quickly showered to refresh ourselves and off we went to get our first view of Chartres.  It was all I had imagined.  We searched for the Labyrinth, knowing it was at the center of the Nave.  It is covered with chairs, but on Fridays between 10 am and 5 pm, the chairs are cleared for walking it. Hence, our reason for being here at this time.  I hope we can walk it in the morning and then again later in the day.  The lighting at the Cathedral changes by the minute, season and weather.  This labrinth dates to sometime around 1200 and is made up of flagstones from the quarries in Bercheres, enclosed by bands of black marble.  It has never been restored and it amazing to see how beautiful it is.

Chartres Cathedral, in and of itself, is something worth seeing.  It is one of the UNESCO Heritage sites, if this is something that attracts you.  Being Catholic, Ron and I are drawn to Cathedrals and churches around the world, UNESCO Heritage or not.  Even if one is not Catholic, you cannot deny the beauty of it, nor the historical value of it.  It is the most complete and well-preserved example of Gothic Cathedrals.  The rose window dates back to the 13th century.  There are 172 stained glass windows, covering 2600 square meters.  They are of the finest collection in Europe, considering their age and beauty.  They are famous for the color blue used.This radiant blue used cobalt oxide.  One of the windows is called the "blue Virgin".  Later on, a less expensive pigment replaced the 12th century blue, known as "Chartres blue".  

We walked up 300 steps to the bell tower.  It wasn't as hard as I thought it would be and well worth the trip.  The view was breathtaking of the Cathedral from the angles seen from there, as well as the view of the village.  The narrow, spiraling staircase was beautiful as it led our way.  

After a walk through "old town", we had a lunch of crepes.  One with ham and cheese, the other with caramel  Oh my, were they both good.  

The Best Laid Plans

"The best laid plans of mice and men".  And, you know what they say about that.

It appears that the Kingdom of Saudi Arabia is not as excited about us visiting them as we thought they might be. Or, maybe I should just say that the processing our Visas did not go quite as we had hoped.  We started the process early; knowing that it is a lengthy process that takes paper work that requires copies of our birth certificates, marriage certificate and our daughter's birth certificate; since we are requesting it to visit her.  Along with our US Passports, we send these to the company's main office in Houston.  Then on their end, Dale has to request our coming to visit and has to send a copy of their marriage certificate.  Then someone processes things on that end and sends them to Houston, where it meets up with our paper work and someone processes it there for the Visas.  Long story short, our Visas were not going to get to us in time to leave on the first leg of our trip; so we bailed out and asked for our US Passports back, pronto.

We were disappointed.  We were looking forward to seeing where the "E" Family lives and watching Sojo play soccer and baseball with her friends.  We were looking forward to maybe visiting her classroom and just watching her interact in her little world across the world from us.  And then, there was the opportunity to visit a country we had never been to and experiencing another culture.  It was not meant to be.  We are always firm believers that these things happen for a reason, even if we never discover that reason.  Another time....

And so, we will still go to France, as planned.  Off to Paris via plane, then onto Chartres, Vezelay and Villefranche-sur-mer via trains and planes.  Then, we will be back in Paris for a special little girl's birthday.  We will have seven days to explore Paris through a child's eyes.  I am sure we will discover things that an adult would never see.  I don't just mean the Carousel in a park or Euro Disney.  I mean, those hidden things that only children can see.  The color of the blue sky or a flower hidden behind a park bench.  The awesome wonder in their eyes as they see something for the first time and experience a joy they have never experienced before.

And so, this trip will go on as it was meant to be, if not exactly as planned.  We will have, part pilgrimage to sacred places, part re-visiting a place where Ron spent a few years of his youth, part birthday celebration and part surprise for the few days we will spend in Paris doing things we had not planned to do, after the "E" Family returns to Saudi.  It will be fun, exciting, and a blessing.  We are grateful for the gift of disappointment, surprises, new things, old things and all the in between things that life brings us.  Whatever we do, it will be wrapped up in the bow of grace...gift...life...blessings.

What Leaps in The Womb of Your Heart

I didn't do much during Lent this year.  I felt really out of the loop.  I didn't even give up chocolate.  I didn't even always give up meat on Fridays.  I really was pretty lame about the entire 40 days and no wonder Easter didn't seem to bellow Alleluia in my ears.  Yet somehow beyond, below, beneath the nothingness that happened, I have been feeling something leap within the womb of my heart.  I guess I don't have to participate in order to be drawn into this love our Father and our Brother have for me.   The Holy Spirit is alive and working, even when I am not. 

I am not one who likes to see the darkness of our world.  I am one of those who always claims to see her glass as half full and so should you.  I am aware of the darkness, the loss, the discomfort, the struggles, the sadness, the suffering.  I just don't want to have to look at it.  I will write you a check or donate a box of food for the hungry, but don't ask me to get into the trenches with you and "touch" any of it. 

I don't know what has been going on in this heart of mine, but something has been stirring the pot and making me look at where I might be being called. 

My husband Ron, volunteers with Good Samaritans.  They are a local group who take drives and hikes into the desert near the border of Arizona and Mexico.  They aren't there to encourage or help immigrants to come across the border into Arizona illegally.  They are there to offer Humanitarian aid to those who have traveled hundreds of miles from their homes, their families, their countries.  They aren't just Mexican.  Many are from Central and South America too.  He and others bring water and first aid to these immigrant sojourners.  They offer to help them wash their bloody feet from days of walking.  They offer them a clean pair of socks.  They offer them a small snack.  They call the Border Patrol if they want to go back home. 

Our church has an Outreach Ministry.  I recently joined the ministry because of this little voice that keeps calling my name.  The ministry does occasional "field trips" to places that they minister to.  Places like, Casa Maria Soup Kitchen  http://www.casamariatucson.org/.  Think Dorothy Day  http://www.pbs.org/wnet/religionandethics/episodes/february-8-2013/the-life-of-dorothy-day/14669/ We were going to see the inner workings of this place.  I had been there a couple of times with Ron to deliver food, but didn't really look at anything beyond the person who took it from my hands.  This time, I did.  Brian Flagg, the founder and director for over 30 years is a unique and interesting man.  If you didn't know, you might mistake him for one of the hundreds of homeless that are ministered to there everyday.  He gets a room to sleep in, his food and $10 a week.  How many directors of companies do you know that make $10 a week?  Jimmy, a US citizen who came here as a teen with his parents from Arequipa, Peru, showed us around.  He has a Masters Degree from Cornell University and is married with two children and something tells me he could make a whole lot more money doing just about anything, anywhere else. There are several buildings in this Barrio neighborhood.  One houses the soup kitchen where 600 are served a meal daily and 200 families are given a small plastic bag with food.  This is also where you will find a Porta-Potty.  On the covered patio, you will find people gathering on Mondays at 10 am for Mass said by various priests from across the city.  We were able to attend this and it was life changing.  Music in Spanish, the readings in English and Spanish with a priest who gave the homily in English with a translator for those not understanding English.  Surrounded by my brothers and sisters in Christ, I was in awe of the generosity of so many and the humility of so many.  The Gospel was the one about Mary going to Elizabeth's and Elizabeth feeling John the Baptist leap in her Womb when Mary entered the room.  On the way down to the soup kitchen, we were talking about outreach and how sometimes it is hard to go to the uncomfortable places we feel we might be being called to.  I mentioned that possibly this was not much different than Elizabeth and Mary.  They were both being called to do things they might not have been comfortable with.  Though Elizabeth had always wanted a child, she was now an older woman.  Mary was a single woman who had not been with a man and had been told by an angel she was pregnant with the Son of God.  Whoa Nellie!  That's a lot to swallow.  Having this reading said at Mass, in a soup kitchen after I had shared how difficult this kind of ministry is for me, sure made me pause and search the corners of my heart for where and what I might be being called to do.

Across the street from the kitchen were two other buildings.  This was where other employees who make $10 a week had a room to sleep.  There were rooms filled with non-perishable foods, clothing, etc. for those who might need it.  There was a shower for the employees and the homeless to use.

And so, next week the field trip is to Sr. Jose's Shelter, where homeless women in Tucson are given a place for respite.   https://www.facebook.com/pages/Sr-Jose-Womens-Shelter/206265992846314  I continue to feel that leap in the womb of my heart and I continue to pause, ponder and pray about this.  I don't know if I will truly find a way into one of these places or whether I will still just write that check and deliver food.  I honestly don't know what that leap in the womb of my heart means.  It could just be to better understand or to somehow be able to share this need with others.  Or, it could mean that it is time to get out of my comfort zone and  into the trenches of society where things are not always as we see them from the outside. 
  


"For I was hungry and you gave me something to eat, I was thirsty and you gave me something to drink, I was a stranger and you invited me in".

The Trip - Early Stages of the Planning

Ron and I are planners.  Some things come to fruition and some don't, but we seem to love the planning anyway. I tease Ron that he is the "king of planners".  He makes lists after lists after lists and he starts them the minute we mention a possible trip.  I, on the other hand, want to pack the morning of the trip or maybe the night before if there is an early flight.  I claim that if I forget something, it wasn't that important anyway or that it is surely something that I can buy where we go.  However, I have often forgotten something that is REALLY important to me.  Like hairspray in Phuket, Thailand.  There is something about Aqua Net that just doesn't work for me. 

So, here we are planning the trip of all trips this October and I have been researching and looking for deals on airfare, apartments and hotels.  And then, there is the researching for what to do where.  Ron is the list maker and I am the research specialist.  The trip is over 5 months away, but at my age, I know those months will go fast. 

This trip is part pilgrimage and part family vacation to celebrate our grand-daughter's 7th birthday.  She and her parents are "global nomads" and travel the globe as international school teachers.  We try to visit every other year around Sojo's birthday.  They just started a new gig in Saudi Arabia and this is the year to be with Sojo for her birthday.  So, the plan is to meet in Paris for Sojo's birthday.  Now how many 7 year-olds get to spend their birthday in Paris?  After Paris, we will go back to Saudi Arabia with them for about 10 days before heading back to the US of A.  No matter where they wander, I always want to see it.  I want to smell the air, see the neighborhood, taste the food, travel the roads and make my decision if this is where my 44 year old daughter should be living.  Yes, you heard that right, somehow I still think I get a vote.  Actually, I think I lost my vote in what this girl does with her life at age 6 when she started first grade and she discovered I knew "nothing" after all.  I have discovered that she has a pretty good head on those shoulders and makes good decisions. 

And so, the computer is getting a work out with researching and certain sites are getting printed and put into a purple "Paris" folder.  Ron has started his list and I have visions of Cathedrals, Parisian Streets, Disney Paris, a birthday cake, a precious 7 year old snuggled with me on a sofa in a perfectly Parisian apartment, people watching while sipping a delicious latte at a café on Saint-Germain-De-Pres and discovering a desert very different than the one I live in.

To be continued.....



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Be Still and Know That I Am God

I had goose bumps when I first heard about the horrific tragedy in Boston yesterday.  To think that once again, a senseless act of hatred, terrorism or just plain craziness has touched our soil or any soil on this earth, saddens me to no end. I do not understand it at all.  I do not understand this kind of hatred and insanity.  I say insanity, because there is no way that a sane person could do something like this.  I cannot explain the craziness, nor am I using this as an excuse.  I do know that we have to be careful that how we respond to these things, is not just as crazy. 
 

I saw a few posts on Facebook that disturbed me even more than this horrific tragedy.  Some suggest that our loving God is "allowing" these tragedies or natural disasters or corruptness because He wants to bring us to our knees and reach for him.  And suggesting that it will only get worse until we do, is ludicrous.  God does not "punish" us by killing innocent people. And the idear that He would kill innocent children, is beyond my comprehension. Certainly, we can hope and pray that out of this tragedy will come some good.  And certainly, much of the good will probably come because people will turn to one another and God for comfort and direction.  I do think that we can use this tragedy for good.  But, please do not blame God for this tragedy. My heart breaks for everyone who was there or had someone there.  However, can you imagine knowing you lost a loved one and believing that God was the reason that happened?  God is there to comfort and love, not to punish.  God loves each and everyone of us. Even those who are responsible for this tragedy.  His love is unconditional.  Pray for those who have suffered and died.  Pray for those who have lost loved ones.  Pray for those who are responsible and for those who will hunt them down.  Pray for those who will arrest and prosecute them.  Pray that God will once again bring us through this great tragedy and make our lives, our country and our world a better and more loving place to be. 

Be still for a moment and listen to the voice of God who loves beyond all else.