I’m back from my week at camp. I feel like I’ve travelled into another universe. In the middle of a field in Wem, Shropshire with no television I had managed to convince myself the riots were a mere fabrication of the media.
Returning home I’m struck by the horror of reality.
I don’t know what to make of the scenes of carnage I am witnessing on my television screen.
The irony of it all makes me sick. I have spent a week with some of the bravest people I know. Children fighting for their lives, living with severe disabilities. Parents facing daily battles arguing for necessary equipment to ease, improve their child’s quality of life. Yet I don’t see them taking to the streets looting, stealing, destroying. Using the excuse of feeling sorry for themselves of the life they have to live.
Whatever the reasons there is no excuse for the violence, the sheer horror of what is occurring.
My heart breaks when I think of the way our country Is being portrayed around the world. I hope people will understand that the mindless thugs are a minority of England not the majority.
I think of the homes, businesses, lives destroyed in the last few days and I’m lost. I cannot comprehend how people must be feeling.
I listen, read the rage against the police the politicians and yes I agree mistakes have been made but the fault lies at the feet of the rioters. Nowhere else.
I don’t know what the future holds for our country. I pray that from destruction can come new growth. That changes that can be made.
Right now I pray for peace, may the violence end and may all people be safe.