So I’ve been a mom for a short time. I have a smart and beautiful girl and a cheerful son. Becoming a mom has been a positive experience for me. I have become a glass half full kind of woman, one who lives life with an encourager’s frame of mind. Tough day? My reaction is try again tomorrow! Down in the dumps? I say can’t be that bad, really. Feel like women haven’t come far enough in the world? Look at what we’ve accomplished already! I probably should have been on the pep squad back in the day because I’m just that peppy. I try to never post about #firstworldproblems. Instead, I have a chalk board in my bedroom in which I wipe clean every year and look forward to writing on it the blessings that happen every year as they happen.
Yet here I am, eyes glued to the screen, watching as just the down the street, just over the county line, 4 miles from my house, many mourn the loss of 17 of the students. This town was voted one of the nicest places to raise kids in the area. Our family almost moved there last year. I used to work in that town, go to Bible studies in that town, drive down the very road where reporters are now camping out. I’m watching as prayer vigils are lead by my old pastor, where my friends work.
And I have to admit, I don’t feel very peppy.
I haven’t lost anyone, but with 6 degrees of separation being what it is, I have friends and coworkers who’ve lost their children. I just have no words. This time, I don’t want to engage in political debates, I don’t want to compare scars, I don’t want to be an encourager, I just want to wrap those other moms in my arms and cry with them. As I write these things, I’m reminded by my gal pals that some women aren’t huggers, so instead, I’ll offer some words of love.
My heart is broken with you.
I empathize with you.
Your loss is my loss.
And I wish that was enough. But its not.
So as I turn for more ways to be of help, as I try to find something in my storehouse of a brain, I come across the central tenants of my faith. Like so many in times of loss, I’m reminded that my God is a God of love, and all He requires is that I love Him, and I love my neighbor. I’ve been taught that we humans are suppose to behave like His hands and feet on the earth. We’re supposed to help our neighbors in times of need. Also, like my God I can offer my blood. Blood donation is something that I can do. One Blood has asked for O- blood, and now they’ve opened up requests for all types of blood donation. So I guess I’ll start there. Because I’m just a mom who could have been in the same situation as the mom down the street. Because I love my neighbor.
And neighbor, I’m going to continue to search for ways to make sure things like this don’t happen again.
