I Pause

By Robyn Whyte, who writes (often about how to be happy) at Robyn Writes.

I am the mother of a murdered child

I am the sister of the shooter

I am the cousin of the Principal

I am the wife of a policeman

I am the pastor of a Newtown church

I am the rabbi nearby

I am the remaining brother’s best friend

I am the parent of a surviving child, and the

Grandmother of the slain psychologist.

Some of us want to rid the country of guns

Some of us want to give a gun to everyone.

Some of us want more laws, and

Some want fewer laws.

Some of us think Jesus is the answer, and

Some think Jesus is the problem.

Some think the shooter was ill, and

Others think him wicked and evil.

Truth be told, I don’t know the truth.

And so, as mother, friend, sister, cousin, pastor and rabbi,

I pause.

I allow reality to sink in.

Without disputing the facts, I withhold judgment,

And pause.

Acknowledging the pain and bewilderment,

I pause.

Acknowledging the calls to action,

The clamoring for change,

I pause.

Eschewing passivity,

I pause.

Wisdom rarely shouts.