Sometimes I wish we, as human beings, had the capacity to hear our words through the ears of those who are in the midst of terrible suffering. No matter how well intended, how true, how comforting they may be to some, there are those who will be hurt even more by what we say. Are the words we use directed toward those who are suffering, or toward ourselves? I know and sympathize with those who want so badly to say something, anything, that might bring some solace if even for a moment, but how many times have I seen in the last few days well-meaning comments and references to a loving God in connection with people who just aren’t able to see this truth in the mist of such heart-rending sorrow. There is a time for truth, for acceptance, for talk about solutions, and whys and wherefores, but I can’t help thinking that maybe some of our attempts to put words to our thoughts and feelings, and our desires to help might be better echoed in our prayer closets rather than in public. Sometimes in our rush to help, to comfort, to make better, the intended benefactors of our desire are often the ones trampled in the process.