where the writers are
New York

I awoke this morning in my normal fashion. Putting His word into me and getting dressed listening and jotting down words and phrases that mean something to me at that moment.  This process takes about an hour and right before I leave to go to work I turn on NBC and find out from Matt what is going on. This morning I stood still and stared at the screen. He was a little boy, only 8 years old, walking home. He was taken and murdered and then to add insult to the insult, his body was dismembered. Oh My!! Tears immediately came into my eyes. The pain of his parents and the community of people who knew him and for those who did not.  There are not enough words to express this kind of pain.  This announcement lasted all of about 2 minutes and the next thing out of Ann's mouth is about the stalemate going on in our government over increasing the debt ceiling. Now this snippet lasted about 10 minutes.

There is something wrong with the amount of time that is allotted on children in the media and in real life.  Here we have a little boy, albeit only 8 and probably should have never been allowed to walk home; however, as parent I know there are many times I have just acquiesced when my children continued to ask me something over and over again - you find yourself screaming OK!! This little boy was exhuberant, he felt like a big boy for the first time in his life and what happens he gets lost. He felt the need to ask the guy that seemed to be friendly and that action cost him his life. Now consider what that action was, asking for directions. Again Oh My,  is all anyone can say. We live in the United States of America where freedom is a privilege and one that I relish wholeheartedly however this attack on our children has got to stop.

Our children have no refuse. How can we fight over how much ro raise the debt ceiling, how our president looked during  a meeting and worry about some famous actor who has self-destructed - our children are dying. There must be stiffer penalties and there must be someone out there who is willing to really help. I remember when we were children we would get on our bicycles and stay gone all day riding from one friends house to another - snacking, giggling and talking - when we were good and tired (or when the street lights came on) we went home to our bed. We rested and our parent(s) rested assured that nothing happened to us and thanked God. Wouldn't it be nice to go back there again - aaaaahhh just the thought makes me smile.

We pay such lip service to your children and our actions as adults, history will be quite critical of our inability to take care of the children we so desperately say we wanted. This little boy is dead! Will his death be in vain or will we as a society practice what we preach or what we say?