Each day is an agony in our household. The silence of an abandoned house, once filled with the joyful laughter of children, is painful. I sit and wonder how am I to endure this the greatest of terrors against an innocent family.
I feel abolutely week and sickly, lowly and helpless. My children are suffering and I can't do anything about it. When I laugh I feel guilty, when I eat I feel guilty, when I indulge in the smallest of pleasures I feel guilty. The meaning of my existence is but a shadow compared to what it is when they are around.
They say that distance makes the heart grow fonder, and that you don't know what you got until it's gone. No truer have these words been to me than they are now.
I listen to the cloud of my honorable friends as they try to console me. I take comfort that all the "fair-weather" friends are gone now. However, their consolations fall on me like drops of water on a hot crucible. It's not that I don't appreciate their love for us, it's just that this is the bastest of agonies and a lesser man would seek to snuff out the lives of those who perpetuate this evil. Then again, I suppose a lesser man would not care so much for the dignity and integrity of his family.
I have it in my heart to forgive everyone who had a role in this tragedy, including myself. I pray for each an everyone one of them. However, above all I want wisdom and mercy to prevail, and I want God's will to be done here.
I look to they day when the laughter is in my home once again.
