There is a mysterious beauty to scars. They are echoes of the magic of healing. That magic allows the pain to heal, the wound to heal, but the scar...
The American public must remember, not only the horror of the massacre a year ago, but the no-votes from corrupt senators who flagrantly betrayed their constituents.
The last time I saw Ben Wheeler, he and his big brother Nate were eating chocolate-chip pancakes and being terribly silly. Nine months after the pancake breakfast, I got a strange voicemail: There had been another school shooting, this time in Connecticut.
A year ago, a completely mentally unbalanced man murdered 20 children and six adults in cold blood at Sandy Hook, an elementary school in Newton, Conn...
"A Nation should not be judged by how it treats its highest citizens, but it's lowest ones" ― Nelson Mandela, Long Walk to Freedom This week, as we...
The Painting Table allowed the citizens of Newtown to explore grief and hope -- without boundaries. When hurt is shared, even if it is with paints or canvas, healing can begin.
Grace Audrey McDonnell didn't have an ounce of hate in her. She was the light and the love of her family. She was Chris and Lynn's daughter and Jack's little sister. She was a granddaughter, a friend and loved by many. But to me, she will always be, simply Grace of my heart.
For a few months after Sandy Hook, it looked like the government was going to pass a new gun control law, specifically aimed at keeping guns out of the "wrong" hands. How is it that a majority of Americans now believe gun laws should be weakened or remain the same?
The young man that stormed Sandy Hook School that cold December morning last year was the kid that sat alone at the lunch table. I can't help but wonder if someone, anyone, had gone over to him and asked: "Would you like to join us?"
We should be able to say something meaningful to the parents of Newtown; we should be able to show them how the deaths of their children moved us to action.
I've struggled to find ways to discuss the issue of gun violence and gun control with friends and family members who have equally strong, but opposing views on the issue. I know I'm not alone in this.
It has been one year since I saw my sweet little Emilie. I will be honest, I hate when the media comes into town. I don't like seeing their vans with large satellite dishes parked on every corner. I don't like seeing my daughter's picture on the news associated with her violent death.
As I see it, Alissa and her husband Robbie are bestowing a priceless gift. They remind us that as long as our little ones are alive and well, there are things we can do to better protect them.
I'm writing Jesse's words into the margins of my Bible next to Psalm 146. His words are an invitation to live differently than the way our culture pushes us to exist. His words make sense when I read them alongside this ancient text of Psalm 146.
As the events at Sandy Hook Elementary unfolded last year, I and the other mothers of America were given an ultimatum: Act now to reduce gun violence in America or sit by as these senseless tragedies continue to occur in our communities. We chose to act.
It does take courage to live with faith and conviction in a society where children lose their lives, where young people go hungry and live in poverty, where senseless violence plagues us. But it's the only answer. Our actions and our words are the only way to push back.