What can I say?

I resort to this blog to give a raw attempt at processing all that is going on in my mind tonight.

How are we, hundreds of miles away, supposed to deal with this grief? And how can we even label it grief when compared to what the actual families are suffering from?

Natural reactions as a mother are fear, over-protectiveness, anger, confusion. Just because I know that evil will never go away until Christ is ruling on this earth does not mean I just stand by and let it take over.

But what can I do? What difference does it make that I feel badly or that I have this temporary sense of motivation to change things? That doesn’t help the families. They’ll never know if I’ve cried; they’ll never even know if I just go on with my life unaffected. These are real people, just like me and there’s nothing I can do to comfort them.

I feel helpless.

So what I’m asking myself is: How can I help people in my own community who might be at risk of becoming the kind of person who would commit an act like this? Or, is it enough to once again renew my commitment as a mother and pour myself into my children’s spiritual, emotional and physical development? Or is the solution somewhere between those two extremes?

No answers come.

I pray for the families; that they would come to rest under the wings of an Almighty, beautiful God, to know and trust His gracious sovereignty, and to long for the day when Christ will rule as King and banish evil eternally.

I pray for little children to sleep without nightmares, or at least to have big, warm, comforting beds to run to when the inevitable nightmares come.

I pray for moms and dads to be able to weep out their sorrows even when clamming up seems so much better.

I pray for teachers to remember the priceless gifts that fill their classrooms.

I pray for law enforcement officers to renew their courage and to somehow know how deeply we appreciate them.

I pray for teenagers to stop watching violence on TV.

And I pray for myself, to never forget how precious life is, or to waste a day of motherhood, or to pass up a stranger who I could help.

God help us.


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