a few more words

Following Friday's news in Connecticut it was a struggle to start the weekend plans. First and foremost, I'm sure we all embraced our kiddos as they came home from school, greeted our husbands or wives with an extra kiss and thanked God for our loved ones. We took time to praise Him for those who were safely delivered back to their parents arms after a terrifying morning. Our hearts were trampled and our spirits were sad.

By struggle, I mean- it was easy to love my kids, snuggle on the couch and give abundant hugs and kisses but a struggle in doing it all without tears. 

Saturday morning as my boys and I were wrapped up in a warm blanket going through the large stack of Christmas books, I could not help but to think of the mothers and fathers waking up with an empty bed in their home. Or the sibling now left without their best friend. Or the neighbor left without a favorite playmate. The grandparents who already have gifts under their tree for their grandchild.

It was a struggle heading to a party with friends, knowing others were gathered across the country embracing each other and shedding tears. It was tough to sit through a dance recital on Saturday watching twenty young girls dance around the stage in beautiful dresses, looking angelic--knowing heaven just welcomed twenty young souls.

It was heartbreaking to watch the news coverage. So I turned off the TV.  And I'm still searching for the right words to talk this through with my big kids.

The wise advise of Fred Rogers, "look for the helpers," is what I'm trying to do.  I'm choosing to give recognition to the helpers and the heroes. I'm whispering the names "Charlotte, Daniel, Olivia, Josephine, Ana, Dylan, Madeleine, Catherine, Chase, Jesse, James, Grace, Emilie, Jack, Noah, Caroline, Jessica, Avielle, Benjamin, Allison, Rachel, Dawn, Nancy, Anne Marie, Lauren, Mary and Victoria" instead of the continual reference of "the victims."

My kids were already home from school when I heard the news.  In fact, throughout the day ten kids were in and out our doors. Ten of the most important kids in my life. I thanked God for each and every one of them, thankful to have them nearby.

After a message assuring me that my friend Laura's family was safe, I took a deep breath and made a conscious choice to enter our weekend with an attitude of Praise. Trying not to be fearful but remembering to be thankful for the blessings.  And I'll be honest, it's hard to find the blessings in all this. Lord, this is a tough one.

And truly, I am so far removed from Newton, CT yet my heart-our hearts-are still effected. We are all connected through the human spirit, through parenthood, through our faith, and yes, even though social media. They are such powerful connections and we must give praise, be thankful and struggle through the hurt with our fellow humans.

I along with so many other people ask, "Where do we go from here? Why? How?" I read this today and gained a bit of insight and encouragement.

"Hey kids. You. The Ones that left us today. The ones who experienced the worst that humanity can do. You little angels who closed your eyes in a living Hell this morning. I'm so, so very sorry that this world didn't give you a chance. [....] You twenty little souls were set free this morning and there is nothing good that could be said about that. But because you left, and the way you were taken, millions of kids still here on Earth tonight will be shown more love than any other ordinary Friday. Your short and precious lives had a value and a purpose.  Godspeed."


And then I heard this, titled, "A Christmas Prayer," by Max Lucado. I think it'll be my Christmas prayer.

Dear Jesus,

It's a good thing you were born at night. This world sure seems dark. I have a good eye for silver linings. But they seem dimmer lately.

These killings, Lord. These children, Lord. Innocence violated. Raw evil demonstrated.

The whole world seems on edge. Trigger-happy. Ticked off. We hear threats of chemical weapons and nuclear bombs. Are we one button-push away from annihilation?

Your world seems a bit darker this Christmas. But you were born in the dark, right? You came at night. The shepherds were nightshift workers. The Wise Men followed a star. Your first cries were heard in the shadows. To see your face, Mary and Joseph needed a candle flame. It was dark. Dark with Herod's jealousy. Dark with Roman oppression. Dark with poverty. Dark with violence.

Herod went on a rampage, killing babies. Joseph took you and your mom into Egypt. You were an immigrant before you were a Nazarene.

Oh, Lord Jesus, you entered the dark world of your day. Won't you enter ours? We are weary of bloodshed. We, like the wise men, are looking for a star. We, like the shepherds, are kneeling at a manger.

This Christmas, we ask you, heal us, help us, be born anew in us.

Hopefully,
Your Children