Nashville

One year.

It’s been one year since it happened. Blessed are the victims of the Covenant School shooting in Nashville, for they are with God.

Blessed are the Covenant School staff members, the traumatized, the wounded, for these shall be called Children of God.

Blessed are the three 9-year-olds, Hallie Scruggs, Evelyn Dieckhaus, and William Kinney, whose innocent bodies were demoralized in a senseless act of murder, for they are seated on the lap of the Almighty. Blessed are Cynthia Peak (61), Mike Hill (61), and Katherine Koonce (60), for their lives were beautiful.

Blessed are their loved ones, with broken hearts, with battered minds. Blessed are all Nashvillians who wept one year ago.

Blessed are the shell-shocked. Blessed are the confused. Blessed are the pissed-off. Blessed are the traumatized. Blessed are the people who still blame themselves, even though it’s not their fault. Blessed are the bystanders.

Blessed are the men and women in Nashville who can think of no other way to respond to this erratic tragedy than to help others.

Blessed are the total strangers who showed up on the scene 365 days ago, just to cry. Blessed are those gathered outside Covenant School to hold candles, present bouquets, and memorialize the lost ones.

Blessed are the local media persons whose job was to stand in front of cameras and report, matter-of-factly, on the worst crime of humanity.

Blessed are all those with big hearts, who just wanted to help. Blessed are the givers. The doers. The feeders. The bakers. The babysitters. The shuttle drivers. In a world of people blinded by their own anger, bless you. A million times, bless you. You are not invisible.

Blessed are those who painstakingly tried to maintain peace, especially while everyone else in this world was fighting like rabid canines. As politicians held public urination contests, and random people on Facebook fought from 3,000 miles away. Blessed are the peacemakers.

Blessed are you, the immediate family members of the victims, whose lives are still falling apart, whose homes are still empty.

Blessed are the mamas and daddies of the dead.

Blessed are the husbands and wives of the deceased.

Blessed are the sons and daughters of the fallen. The brothers and sisters. The aunts and uncles. The grandparents. The grandchildren. The best friends. The fishing buddies. The classmates.

Your suffering still makes no sense, and maybe it never will. You have every right to cuss at God and shake your fist at the sky. But know this: your strength and your courage affected millions. And that’s not nothing.

Blessed are the parents of Audrey Hale, whose 28-year-old child lost her mind; whose daughter committed blackblooded murder. We are praying for these parents.

Blessed are the EMTs, the fire-medics, the patrolmen, the patrolwomen, the throngs of Metropolitan Nashville Police officers, the spokespersons, the medical examiners, the coroner, the medical workers, the liaisons, the deputies, the office workers. You are the salt of the earth.

Blessed are the students of Covenant School. Blessed are the little boys and little girls with blood smattered on their clothes. Blessed are the innocent children who didn’t know what was happening. You are the light of the world, kids. And believe me, we all saw your beautiful lights shining.

And blessed are you. Whoever you are. Whoever is reading this. One year ago, you were blind with sadness. You were dispirited. You were overwhelmed. You are still mourning.

I didn’t know what to say then, and I still don’t. Because I’m nobody. So I stole these words from someone else:

“Blessed are those who mourn, for they shall be comforted.”