Heart Ache, Motherhood and God

It’s been another heart wrenching week in Colorado.
I know many people respond to tragedies like this wondering how anyone could believe in God – surely if there were a God, he/she would never allow this to happen.

And it’s ironic, because I truly have to say, it is only because of my hope in God that this type of horror does not swallow me up in despair.

Jessica’s death has hit me hard. I feel a bit haunted by this most recent awful tragedy. She lived a few communities away from me. She attended the same school as my nephew. She was a child. She was innocent and she is gone.
I think that the truth is, I find myself particularly jarred because I am a mother, and I am not yet used to the way motherhood has opened my heart, made me vulnerable in such an awful and powerless way. Before motherhood, I would have described Jessica’s death as horrible. Now, it is horrifying.

I have been thinking about all of this, praying and seeking God and trying hard not to give in to fear. What will we teach our son when he is old enough to begin to understand? Don’t talk to strangers, never go to someone you don’t know – even if they are asking for help, offering you candy, a puppy, ANYTHING. In reality, what we will have to teach him is this: this world is not safe. It is full of too much bad - bad people, bad things. You, my son, must be smart. You must learn to be discerning and aware of yourself and your surroundings.

And that’s it. Because truly we are powerless to protect our children from life’s bad in any satisfactory way. In the wake of little Jessica’s death I find myself holding so close to my son at night, almost lustfully clinging to my child.  As if it might be possible to inhale his very essence, I breathe in his scent, and I pray.

God, watch over all of these little people, who are helpless and innocent and good. God, for some reason you have entrusted this child to me for this brief time. Help me remember that he is actually yours, and that the love I have that has broken me apart is but a glimpse of your gracious, abounding, sacrificial love for him. In my powerlessness, help me know with depth and conviction that you are bigger, the story is bigger than the bad we trudge through here on earth.

The sobering truth is I can do so little to protect my son from sickness, from sorrow or hurt, from tragedy, or from whatever ugly form the bad of this world might appear this week or this month or this year. What I can do is try my very best to teach him well, continue turning to God in hope and with courage, and thank God for his truth. What power these words from Paul’s letter to the Romans has in a time like this: For I am convinced that neither death nor life, neither angels nor demons, neither the present nor the future, nor any powers, neither height nor depth, nor anything else in all creation, will be able to separate us from the love of God that is in Christ Jesus.

I believe this is true for me, I believe it is true for my son. And Lord, I believe it is true for little Jessica. Amen.