I want to do anything at all.
I want to react. I want to move.
But instead I sit, glued to the tv.
I'm scared the phone will ring.
And I’ll be forced to fake a smile.
When there is no being professional today.
There is only spontaneous sobbing.
As I watch the news.
As I wonder what this world is coming to.
As I put myself in the shoes of wives whose husbands never returned home from the fire...
Mothers tucking their babies into makeshift beds on cold gym floors at night, instead of the warm, safe cribs they are used to at home.
Life is so unfair.
It is awful, what has happened.
What continues to happen.
Daily it seems.
My heart is heavy.
The flags at half staff.
And there’s no escaping it.
In my newsfeed. On the TV.
It’s all anyone is talking about, and I know why.
Because we can’t believe it, what has happened.
Some people are quick to help, to run in when trouble arises.
But others are jumping on bandwagons.
And jumping to conclusions.
Jumping ship, before their political party goes down in flames.
Some want to shift blame. To cast stones. To name call.
They're chomping at the bit to make this a topic for debate…
While others are just trying to figure out where there next meal will come from.
Or if they’ll ever walk again.
Or how to make their kids feel safe, in a world that seems to have fallen from its axis.
A world that has jumped course.
I hate not having answers.
I hate not knowing when things will get better.
So I pry myself off the couch, anxious to be doing
Even if it is throwing sample shampoos and not-so-new tennis shoes into a box slated for donation.
Even if it is hugging my husband every time I pass him in the hall.
Even if it is muttering humble, stunted prayers...
Why? How? What do we do now?
I can’t bring back lost loved ones, but I can be grateful for my own.
I can’t provide a home for those who’ve lost theirs, but I can offer a few of the comforts, the luxuries really, that I so often take for granted.
I can’t turn back time, or put the world back into an orbit that doesn't involve daily violence, and unspeakable tragedy…
But I can drag myself out of bed again tomorrow.
And I can utter those same small prayers.
And I can trust that will be enough.
'Cause it's all I can do...
With a heart this heavy.