In an act of ultimate Christian charity, Amish leaders have set aside a portion of the funds donated by a sympathetic public, to help provide for the family of the man who murdered their little girls. Apparently, the hand of friendship has been extended to the nutjob's widow, and forgiveness extended to the nutjob himself.
I am awed, I am humbled. I can only admire what I do not possess. I don't think I would have it in me to forgive someone that way. There is too much anger, too much vindictiveness, in me. I harbor grudges. I am filled with the sin of pride, and the thirst for vengeance when I am wronged. I engage in schadenfreude from time to time, when the opportunity presents itself. I am not a very good Christian. I want to be, but I sin and fall short, time and again.
Every time one of these psychos goes and kills a bunch of people- going all the way back to the Standard Gravure thing when I was a child- I entertain notions of packing up, and moving out to the country. I think about how much safer I'd feel, and how much more simple and peaceful things would be, with fewer neighbours and a more rural setting. I allow myself the fantasy of raising my boys in more traditional, more nurturing, surroundings.
My mental safety net is shattered. If the Amish ain't safe, ain't nobody safe.
I can only marvel in wonder at the amazing goodness being displayed by these folks. They are living the example of Christian love, living their faith in a very visible and moving way. I wish I was more like them.