As I type, major news networks claim up to 32 fatalities and 21 injuries resulted from two separate shooting incidents early Monday morning - one in residence hall West Ambler-Johnston and another in academic building Norris Hall.

Interviews with students reveal experiences one hopes never to personally endure. One injured student, interviewed by MSNBC, shared details of an anonymous shooter walking into the classroom to open fire on what appeared to be no one in particular. In a frightening turn of events, the speaker described students barricading the door to thwart the shooter's attempt to return to the classroom to kill more.

Other students, farther from the mayhem, spent the day locked in classrooms and dorms, confused and waiting apprehensively. My stepsister's boyfriend, a graduate TA, was one of thousands in this situation.

Virginia Tech - known for its fantastic football, its top engineering program, and its laid-back campus atmosphere - has, in a few short hours, joined the infamous ranks of schools like Columbine and Red Lake.

A Sense of Helplessness

Tragedies like this have a way of taking our breath away. What do we do? How can we comfort? How did this happen? Will true healing ever occur?

Even in the days and weeks to come, few answers will offer comfort to the grieving families who sent their once-healthy, promising young adults away only to receive the phone call every parent dreads.

My own thoughts were frozen as I watched coverage that hit so close to home. Not only am I a graduate, but my twin sister, stepsister, and cousin received their degrees there, and a younger cousin recently began his freshman year there. We're a Hokie family if there ever was one.

I embraced my Christian faith while a student at Virginia Tech thanks to a student church called New Life Campus Fellowship. Yet, in times like this when suffering is no longer an intellectual concept, the Christian faith is challenged - can it really hold up in the face of such human tragedy? Or is it just a nice idea for when life is clicking along steadily?

As I tried to process the unreal events in my mind, a friend of mine sent me this Lenten reflection from Pope Benedict:

"The Cross is the definitive revelation of love and divine mercy, also for us, men and women of our time too often distracted by worldly and momentary concerns and interests. God is love and His love is the secret of our happiness. To enter into this mystery of love there is no other way than that of losing ourselves, giving ourselves, the way of the Cross."

What strikes me about Pope Benedict's reflection is his emphasis on the Cross. He does not claim our happiness is merely in the Resurrection but in "the way of the Cross." I can't fully begin to explain the meaning behind these words, yet one thing rings true - our happiness does not rest in this life being perfect but in the love of God, a love that expressed through the depths of suffering.

As Pope Benedict points out, we are often distracted by worldly and momentary concerns. But God is not distracted. He knows tragedy. He knows death. He is not indifferent or removed. He has walked it, experienced it. And He offers us mercy and love the entire way of the Cross.

Unlike Pope Benedict, I don't have poetic words to help others cope with what happened at Virginia Tech. I wish I did. As a writer I wish I had something really profound to say. As an alumnus I wish I had something comforting to say. But although I don't have the perfect words, I can point others to a perfect God - a God who suffers with us and whose own redemptive suffering transforms our suffering so that it is not in vain.

Memories of Virginia Tech in the aftermath of Sept. 11th remain vivid. As the sun sank below the mountains, and Tuesday morning gave way to twilight, off-campus students wandered to the drill field where a campus-wide prayer service was held by clergy of several denominations. The stars glistened over us as we stood on the grassy lawn, surrounded by the gray, neo-Gothic structures that characterize the VT campus. As we prayed, we stood in the glow of the War Memorial chapel - a focal point on the drill field where names of fallen alumni are engraved on large pillars.

Peace descended on the group of students as prayers were sent heavenward. It was the only time that day where hope seemed to reign. In less than 24 hours, students were banding together to proclaim faith in a God bigger than their fears. As the days and weeks unfold, I pray Virginia Tech can band together and reach out to that same God now as we did then.