This empty blog post has been staring me down for hours. The cursor blinking. But I couldn’t write because I’ve been trying to marshall my thoughts, trying to get my thoughts them to behave, to order, to make sense. Also, I’ve had sore throat–like a thirsty fur ball tangling with my voice box. A lump that expanded every time I got on Facebook or read the news.

Facebook was half beautiful votes of sympathy, eloquent expressions of condolence, and cries for different positions on gun control. The other half was a stark juxtaposition to the typical status updates about summer fun, new dogs, and Bachelorette gossip. But one thing was clear: Yesterday Colorado was heavy with pain we’ve unfortunately had to bear before.

I said a silent prayer as I was walking through Old Town Chicago, which was unusual since Latter-day Saints usually try to pray with their heads bowed and eyes closed. This usually suggests that prayers are said in the stationary position. But Old Town is the quietest, most beautiful place in Chicago–perfect for prayer, eyes closed or not. The only sound I could hear were occasional children giggling as they rode their bikes. With every child’s laugh, I was reminded that life–even after everything– is still good.

The lump in my throat was for the victims of this horrendous tragedy in Aurora, Colorado. My prayer was for the world that we might find a way to counterstrike against gun violence, mass tragedy, and large criminal attacks.