I began the week closeted in silence...in darkness...as the powerful Nor'easter ravaged the coast, tearing down trees and power lines. Wrapped in downy quilts, I read long into the night by the light of many candles on the night stand. Silence: no television, phone, radio, computer. In my dark cocoon of silence, I didn't hear the gunshots, the screams of those who were viciously shot on a campus in Virginia, until the voice on my car radio awakened me to the horror that had taken place. A voice that shattered the peaceful sound of silence that I had savored for a time. Horror and violence assaulted, leaving in its wake far greater damage than the wind and rain. A great cloak of sadness fell over my shoulders.

Wednesday night I had a dream that as I arrived home, Cho was standing in front of me without the gun in his hands. I felt cold with fear as he stood in silence and stared at me. "You frighten me," I said..."but for some reason, I can't help but love you." I began to cry, fearful, and he evaporated into thin air. I woke up shaking, and lingered in the wake of that dream for some time. Why would I love a disturbed killer? Am I supposed to?

The week ended yesterday in the garden. I was raking leaves away from colorful crocus and enjoying the beauty of the new green shoots emerging from the cold earth, the sun warm on my body, finally driving the cold and damp from my bones and spirit. What a difference a few hours make! Power and light restored, the Spirit beginning to heal shattered lives, as life returns to normal and springtime touches our souls.

Oh, God, we give you thanks for the power of resurrection in our daily experience.

--Reverend Jan Hryniewicz