By Cindy Koch

She smiled as great grandpa offered his hands to hold the squirming little baby boy. Not just because he had become antsy after 45 minutes of a traditional church service where she did everything to keep her 8-month old quiet through reading and sermons and prayers. No, now she smiled because her son was clenched in the strong arms of the faithful who sat steadfast beside her.

By Cindy Koch

Today I am sick with anger. Every moment that my own beautiful little children inch toward that front door, out into the bleak and dangerous world, I become frantic. There are murderers and swindlers out there, just outside a parent’s protection. They lay in wait, hunting our children, just beyond our doorstep. I am furious that these evil attackers can destroy such precious lives—moments, years, smiles, hopes, and dreams—for no reason at all. I am devastated that over and over a mother screams for her baby that will never come home, a father is defeated by an enemy that never looked him in the eyes.