This blog is kind of frivolous. I write about yarn, books, my children, little frustrations, domestic worries. I don't try to change the world, or even intentionally to make it a better place. The things you hear about are the things I choose to tell you - not even necessarily the truth about myself, and never the whole truth. I have chosen to keep things more or less light.
I recently got back in touch with my uncle Joe and his partner Dave, after years of comparative - though amicable - silence. I started reading Dave's blog, and he mine. You've probably seen him in the comments.
Last week he wrote about a shocking hate crime that was committed in England last August against a disabled man. If you Google "Brent Martin murder", Dave's blog entry is the second result shown. I will leave the details to you to discover if you choose to - I don't wish to discuss them here because they sicken me.
Dave has asked that his readers observe, in their own way, a period of mourning as a protest for this unconscionable crime. I have been thinking about it since, and considering what I can best do.
I don't have much of a voice in the world. I am what I am. I stay at home, literally, spending a lot of intensive time with my children. I don't go many places - maybe the house of a friend a couple of times a week. I read. I make things. I do dishes.
But I can speak to you, whoever you are who is reading this blog. And God hears my voice. So I am telling you about it, and I am praying.
I am praying for peace and hearts' ease for Brent's family. I'm praying for the jury's wisdom. Praying that his murderers - mere boys - feel their guilt, so that they can feel remorse, so that they can repent. Praying that the world I brought my children into is not as bad as I fear it is.
Poor, poor man.
Rest. In peace.