[What follows may not be appropriate for a political blog, but no matter. Sometimes we need to set politics aside. -- bg]

I heard the Amber Alert on the radio. I was driving somewhere, tuned to a local station, when I heard the tones, the sirens; and then the message. Perhaps I was drawn in because I had not heard the Amber Alert before, at least on the station to which my radio was tuned. Perhaps I couldn't help myself as a father, as a concerned parent. Perhaps I could not help myself because it was the first-ever Amber Alert from Vermont.

Brooke Bennett, 12 years old, last seen -- .

Yesterday Brooke Bennett was found, buried off a gravel road, alongside a maple sugar shack; what should be sweet in that idyllic Vermont countryside is no more. I weep, and I am not sure why. I can't explain why I prayed for her, when I have not prayed for all of the girls I've heard about who have vanished; who have been so brutalized. Maybe I can't do it but once or twice a year; perhaps I can't pray without ceasing. Maybe no one can.

That Brooke Bennett was murdered is hellish enough. But her story is far darker, far more distorted, than I had imagined. It is too dark to glimpse at; it's a darkness that scars the retina of the soul. One can't look without suffering loss. And if one cannot look at it without suffering, imagine living -- and dying -- through it.

Fathers, sons, brothers and all noble men. I bid you to purge your hearts -- with me -- of anything that is sexually impure; love your women, your wives, daughters, sisters and girlfriends. Let all women know that you are safe, as safe as angels; let us all live in such a way that no woman -- ever! -- sees demons where there should be gentlemen, rays of light ... and protectors of all that is good, lovely, pure.

And may the mercy of God, and the grace of His love, restore Brooke Bennett, now and forevermore.

Peace.

BG