Peace on earth?

I started this blog last week. A blog about peace in the second week of advent. Maybe I’ll get back to that one sometime. But in the midst of writing about Henry Wadsworth Longfellow's’ poem, Christmas Bells, and peace on earth good-will to men I experienced something that every American parent dreads and my outlook on peace was  . . . Shifted? Shaken? Shattered?

 We got this text in our family group chat from my daughter, a junior in high school, at about 10am on Monday morning.

Any peace I had been feeling or contemplating as a possibility was gone in that instant. Telling myself not to panic I sent off a reassuring text in response. Her next texts only escalated the fear and dread which were nearly consuming me in my inability to protect my child or even know what danger she faced.

And then

My hope and prayer, which I know is unlikely to be realized given the choices we have made and are making as a country, is that no more parents get a text like this from their child who is hiding in their school afraid that someone with a gun will come through that locked classroom door.

And then

At this point I was sobbing at my kitchen counter, laptop with my half formed thoughts on peace ironically forgotten. I was scouring online to see if there were any updates and only found further speculation, fear and confusion on some of our town's Facebook Pages. I want to draw some lesson here about my powerlessness in this moment or the way misinformation and my easy access to it did nothing but further stoke the uncertainty. But I can't. The only lesson I am still able to draw one week later is that this is wrong and violence is a choice. The only emotion I have had around this incident other than fear is an incandescent and unquenchable anger at the choices people have made that put my daughter on the cold tile floor surrounded by terrified classmates wondering what was happening and hoping for peace.

And then

Although my feelings, and thoughts and ideas in this moment were overwhelming they did not range far from the fear and anger I mentioned above - just plunged me deeper. I was terrified for my daughter's safety even while reasonably certain, based on the clues given about her being able to see police from her window and a statement put out by the Milford PD at this point, that she would be ok. It was likely an officer checking on the door, not a gunman. But reasonable certainty in that moment was not nearly reasonable or certain enough to calm the terror or touch the anger, the latter being held at bay only by the former.

We finally did get the text that all was well or if not well then not immediately dangerous. The kids were eventually moved along to whatever class was meeting at that time - barely an hour after it all began. An hour? When I looked back at our texts and realized it had been that short amount of time I was shocked. I felt like it had been a week of waiting to know she was okay, to know what was happening, to know anything at all. I had to wait another three hours until I would hold her.

I am trying to find perspective and consider what, if any, lessons might be drawn beyond the obvious . As I think about the peace that passes understanding, that peace we have access to as followers of Jesus in this context I very much wish I did not experience I am wondering how much is a gift and how much is a call to build.

MLK once said that peace is not merely the absence of tension but is the presence of justice.

The very violence we feared in those moments is absent and yet it does not feel like peace reigns at Milord High school, in our home or in our spirits in the aftermath of this not-even-an-actual-shooting.

Justice, wholeness, would look like a nation that prioritizes the safety of our children over the ability to obtain unlimited and under-regulated guns. It would look like policies that seek first the well-being of human beings and a society that responds to tragedy with thoughts, prayers and a plan to make sure it does not happen again.

I return to the words of that poem and feel I am still in this stanza

And in despair I bowed my head;“There is no peace on earth,” I said;    “For hate is strong,    And mocks the song Of peace on earth, good-will to men!”

Awaiting the epiphany, divine intervention, action that drives me to the last stanza

Then pealed the bells more loud and deep:“God is not dead, nor doth He sleep;    The Wrong shall fail,    The Right prevail,With peace on earth, good-will to men.”

In hope during this season of anticipation I wait.

Maybe in that in between time during the despair and before the pealing of the bells we can learn about and support these organizations working to end gun violence.

Massachusetts Coalition to Prevent Gun Violence

Everytown for Gun Safety

Sandyhook Promise

Mom's Demand Action

Story and texts shared with Isabellla's permission