This morning I took a few friends to the airport before majority of our broken community awoke to finish up the week with a hustle and bustle as the Christmas holiday approaches. The past week has been hard on our Inland Empire community and it was so nice to see everything clean and peaceful after last nights rain. Because I was at the airport early to drop friends off I was ready for school early, too. I took my free time to my favorite coffee shop in Redlands and enjoyed the darkness of the morning with a hot drink and the regulars. On my way to school I drove past the home of the shooters from last Wednesday's mass shooting just blocks away from our school. The streets were wet and the wind had blown the bright leaves across lawns and sidewalks while people were sleeping. The streets were empty and houses and apartments still sleepy. It's so hard to believe that such horror could come from such a picturesque neighborhood, quiet, and innocent. The recent events and news coverage has caused a lot of fear in our neighbors, in our kids, our teachers. But nobody talks about the innocence that we all share; when we're tired, broken, and missing our loved ones, when we are sleeping, the wind is blowing while mother nature cries over our homes. Last Wednesday while we were in lockdown, one of my seventh grade students recommended we pray. His words to our God were so faith filled, so certain that He would provide no matter our circumstance, and I've been clinging onto those words as I go about my daily activities wondering if there are plans of attack, if this is my last day, if my loved ones will come home. We have this faith that moves mountains and brings us to our knees, reminding us that we have a Savior.