when we do, we will be changed,
These days there are no words enough. We will heal when we heal;
we will die and birth either hate or more love:
the kind that is conceived in days like these when our children kill our children. What state is that?
Words fail. We sit in the grass that bears our babies – these are days of a state we never knew; days we blame God not hell; days we turn away from the Forgiver, to the Taunter of humans.
Father forgive us. Father, heal.
Innerdialects 
We need the healing touch of our Savior in this world
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I’m pouring more LOVE into this broken world. We cry for our loss, we console the living, and we must forgive the sinner. If we can find just a tiny bit of love we can grow it into a peace that will blanket those around us. My prayer is that we cover everyone with love and then there cannot be room for hatred, greed, racism, violence and evil to gain a foothold… I know it is an impossible dream in a broken world. But still I pray – God is bigger than the violence and He hears the cry of the lost.
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