I found out about the massacre in Sandy Hook Friday midday. A friend of mine
mentioned in an email, “Hug your boys tight given the horrendous news that came
out.” Huh?
I went to NPR.org and my knees weakened. Any shooting tragedy is, well, tragic. But the headline mentioning that dozens of the victims were children–young children gunned down in their classroom–was too much to even process. And the school principal and psychologist shot as they rushed to try and stop the killer… unspeakably miserably profoundly deeply sickening.
The details of the unfolding of Sandy Hook have mesmerized me. As the child of teachers, as someone who myself has taught for years, and as someone who in my capacity as Texas Instrument’s spokesperson speaks to teachers all over the country, the senselessness of this shooting and its victims coupled with the stories coming out of brave teachers hiding children in barricaded classrooms and telling them they are loved so that God forbid if they were killed they would die feeling loved… it’s overwhelmingly furiously tragic.
What I have heard since Friday is a lot of “Why?” and also, its persistent cousin, “Where was God?”
Disclaimer: I want to share my thoughts about these questions not to detract from their significance but to express the truth of my belief system. This is not meant in any way to take away from those who will disagree with me, or those who feel I am discounting them. I express this as an alternate way to understand both the tragedy and the complexity of a relationship with the Divine.
Not once since Friday have I wondered what kind of God would let this happen. Not once have I felt angry at God, although I understand people who do. I’m speaking for myself personally: I don’t have any less faith in God because of this tragedy. God was there and God is still here.
Continue reading.
I went to NPR.org and my knees weakened. Any shooting tragedy is, well, tragic. But the headline mentioning that dozens of the victims were children–young children gunned down in their classroom–was too much to even process. And the school principal and psychologist shot as they rushed to try and stop the killer… unspeakably miserably profoundly deeply sickening.
The details of the unfolding of Sandy Hook have mesmerized me. As the child of teachers, as someone who myself has taught for years, and as someone who in my capacity as Texas Instrument’s spokesperson speaks to teachers all over the country, the senselessness of this shooting and its victims coupled with the stories coming out of brave teachers hiding children in barricaded classrooms and telling them they are loved so that God forbid if they were killed they would die feeling loved… it’s overwhelmingly furiously tragic.
What I have heard since Friday is a lot of “Why?” and also, its persistent cousin, “Where was God?”
Disclaimer: I want to share my thoughts about these questions not to detract from their significance but to express the truth of my belief system. This is not meant in any way to take away from those who will disagree with me, or those who feel I am discounting them. I express this as an alternate way to understand both the tragedy and the complexity of a relationship with the Divine.
Not once since Friday have I wondered what kind of God would let this happen. Not once have I felt angry at God, although I understand people who do. I’m speaking for myself personally: I don’t have any less faith in God because of this tragedy. God was there and God is still here.
Continue reading.

This early exposure to a man’s man doing gentle things
led me down a path that, even had I known it, probably was taking me down the
“road less travelled” made famous by Robert Frost. It is only recently that I
have become to fully understand and embrace this concept of willingly breaking
the gender stereotypes. We are probably a very typical family from the out side
– - 2 kids, 2 working parents, a mortgage, 2 cars (1 minivan required), and lots
of noise at home. However, in many ways we are not the picture of the typical
household as Deborah does most of the business travel and I am often tasked with
helping out the kids on school projects that require a trip to Michael’s Craft
Store and time spent at my drafting table in the basement. 




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About 15 years ago, I took a class at my synagogue
called Holiday Workshop Series, which presented detailed directions on how to
celebrate every Jewish holiday in one’s home. The notebook included schematic
drawings for building a sukkah of 2x4s and
nails, etc., but I always knew it was my beyond my abilities.