Slice-of-Life-graphicI can’t look at the shoes without shuddering. It’s only a photo and yet tears are leaking from my eyes and my hands shake as sorrow snakes through me into my stomach. So many young lives cut short.

In 26 years of teaching secondary English, I calculate that I taught about 3,200 students—less than HALF the number of young people killed by guns since December 2012.

The three students I lost while teaching still make my heart ache. Amanda, killed while walking home after school as a 7th grader. The 7th grade girl in my reading class whose face I still see but whose name is lost to me, killed one afternoon during the second week of school by a ricocheting bullet shot from her brother’s gun. Zach, a sophomore, whose heart gave out while he was jogging one evening.

Three young lives cut short. But how are we supposed to comprehend 7,000 young lives taken? The grief is too much to bear. Or is it? Will the adults in power close off their hearts to the lives of America’s young people?

The photo reminds me of the 4000 shoes on display in the United States Holocaust Memorial Museum. What does it say about us that we need such tragic evidence of death to believe the truth?

Are the lives of 7,000 children a reasonable cost for someone’s right to own an assault weapon?

Jesus spoke plainly concerning our responsibility for children when he admonished his listeners that, “It would be better for someone to have a millstone were hung around his neck and be were thrown into the sea, than cause one of these little ones to stumble.”

What defense will we offer?