Sunday night, Josh and I sat in the pew in front of a dear lady who has worked as a secretary at our alma mater high school for many, many years. There was a little small talk about her life, her job, and then an awkward pause.
And she blurted, “I’m just having a hard time with this one.”
I know what she means.
Random shootings have become unfortunately common. Of course, each time I hear about one I am sad, and again reminded of my own mortality. But this one, this one feels different.
I have a kindergartner. Now I know that no age group is safer than another, but something about it being the same age makes this feel very, very personal. And I know I’m not alone. Almost everyone can name a child, grandchild, niece, nephew, family friend, or neighbor that falls into that age group.
Friday night was a strange one. We were out-of-town and staying in a relative’s guest house. Ava is typically a very good sleeper, but that night she had a cold, and a combination of not being able to breath and waking up in a strange place set her crying several times during the night.
I’ll be honest, typically this would annoy me. But my heart would leap each time because I was reminded, She’s here! She’s still with us! And I know that there are 20 families out there that would give anything – anything – to hear there child cry out in the night.
One of the biggest steps of faith I’ve ever taken was dropping my child off at school this morning. The Mama Bear in me is ready to scoop that baby up, take her back to the den, and order some homeschooling curriculum. (Amazon delivers to bears’ dens, right?) And that is, of course, always something to be praying about. But, right now, Ava is in school. And although I’ve always known passively that she is in God’s hands, not mine…well, let’s just say I’ve been strongly reminded.
We are praying fervently for the families of the victims. We are praying for our nation and its leaders and each school and each child. And I am praying that, as time goes on, I don’t forget to continue to pray.
Melanie wrote a beautiful post that says so much more than I could. We still have hope because “2,000 years ago, the cry of a baby was a holy roar letting evil forever know that weeping might last for a night, but joy will come in the morning.”
Oh, and one more thought, although this is more of a side note than anything else. A lot of people have seized this opportunity to talk about how the root of the problem is taking God out of schools. Now, although I understand what people mean when they say this, I have to disagree to a point. I have a lot of friends who are believers who also work for public schools. Since Christians are “little Christs” and are indwelled by the Holy Spirit, I must conclude that God is still in the schools. I also know that these wonderful educators would do anything to save our children. I cannot imagine how this event has changed what it means to be an elementary school teacher overnight. My prayers are also with you…and thank you for loving our babies!