In case you missed this—and you certainly could have missed this, because it happens every day—there was another shooting in America. It took place at a school in Tennessee. A student with a gun was killed, a police officer was badly wounded.
The hero, however, was Senator Marsha Blackburn, who took time out of her busy day to Tweet the following …
I am proud of Marsha. Very proud. No, we don’t agree on much. But at 2:32—the very moment she sent that Tweet—I actually felt Marsha’s prayers dart past me en route to Knoxville. I was sitting at my kitchen table, noshing on some apple slices, when—whoooosh!
I turned to my daughter and said, “What the heck was that?”
Casey gave me a incredulous stare. “Seriously? Do you really not know?”
“Know what?” I replied.
“Dad,” she said, “those were Marsha Blackburn’s prayers.”
Damn. They were moving so fast—almost like lightning bolting from a cloud, or a series of bullets soaring out the barrel of an Armalite M15 22LR Carbine. I have no idea how they wound up in California, so I can only assume Marsha Blackburn’s prayers are so strong and potent that they went here, there, there, here, here, here, there … everywhere!
Anyhow, I told Casey that Marsha Blackburn was the day’s hero; that her little head thoughts can move mountains and lift seas and make grown elves cry purple tears. But then, the kid had a final question.
“Dad,” she said, “if the shooting already happened, and someone is already dead, what’s the point in praying?”
I had no answer.
I’ll leave that one to Marsha.
