This morning after I got home from walking my oldest to school, I said to my husband, "I have a bad feeling about today. I just don't like it."
I couldn't explain what the bad feeling was. Or maybe I didn't want to explain what the bad feeling was.
It was completely unfounded.
Except that it wasn't.
How do I know that I won't take my six year old - my beautiful, innocent, intelligent, sometimes sassy baby girl to school one day, kiss her goodbye, and never see her alive again? It happens. Regularly. It's getting to the point that it barely makes the news anymore unless "enough" lives are taken.
Are we okay with that?
And how many is "enough"?
Are we going to continue to think and pray about it? Or is there something else we can do?
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