…in my backyard, a few hundred yards from people I know and care about. Everyone I know is okay, but one family’s son (a boy my son’s age) is dead and three others are wounded in the umpteenth act of meaningless gun slaughter here in the Land of Meaningless Gun Slaughter.
Father, grant eternal rest to the dead man, complete healing to the other victims, the charism of healing to their caregivers, and grace, peace, consolation, faith, hope, and love to all who love them. And give your mercy to the butcher who did this. Mother Mary, pray for them. We ask this through Christ our Lord.
Comboxes are for prayers only. Kids are dead and wounded. Please respect them. And if you so much as ask why I “hypocritically” think protesting gun butchery is an honor to the victims of gun butchery, but standing on their prostrate bodies to lobby for guns is tasteless, tin-eared, and repulsive, that will be my signal that you lack the elementary social skills necessary for grasping human emotions like pain, sorrow, grief, and anger and you want me to ban you.