Reflecting
This morning, I woke up with far too little sleep.
I, like others across the world, am grappling with the reality that evil can and frequently does harm children. I can't help thinking about it when I try to sleep. I pray for those parents with empty beds. I have nightmares of my own. It's always hurt my heart to think of babies suffering, but it seems even more present now that I'm a mother.
It's certainly not new. While there is shock in my mind as I try to wrap my brain about the horrible events in Connecticut, at the same time, I know we've encountered this kind of heartache before. I felt it when those sweet little Amish children were murdered in their school a few years ago. I felt it when a friend of a friend lost their child because of a drunk driver recently. When Oklahoma City was bombed. When little Malachi was suffering. When I think about abortion and orphans and those that I know that have been abused as children. When there's a natural disaster. When I read about the Holocaust or the stories about babies being sacrificed or slaughtered in the Bible.
We want to have a reason for it. We want an easy solution to the problem. We want to feel like we are doing something to keep our children from harm. We want to place the blame on someone, something, like a murderer or a politician or God.
But we don't want to take responsibility for why our children suffer.
It's our own fault. All of us. Every single human on the planet is responsible for this sinful, messed up world.
Children suffer because I sin. I am to blame.
But for Jesus, there would be no hope for us. Sickness, selfishness, murderous evil, all of these are having their day. They seem overwhelming to us now. But the day is coming, soon I hope, when these things will be no more. When wickedness will be restrained eternally, when tears will be wiped away, when Jesus will have his rightful place as King of Kings.
These things comfort my heart now as I am tempted to worry about what my children will face as they grow in this perverse world. I can do what I can to physically protect them. I can follow guidelines and make smart choices and teach them how to be safe. But, let's face it, I cannot control everything. So I teach them about safety and emergencies, but an even greater emphasis is on the big picture--God is in control. God loves us. Bad things happen, but God heals. God is the only place we can find peace and refuge.
Some say that faith in God is a crutch. If so, I'm glad to have it. We are all crippled as we hobble through this world. I'd rather have something I can lean on than try to make it through this mess on my own.
These awful things that happen can teach us to be better parents. This morning, when I opened my eyes far earlier than I wanted to, the first thing I saw was my daughters's smile. Normally, I might roll my eyes and be irritated that she was wide awake so early, but today, I was thankful. Thankful that she and her brothers are here. I have been working to be more patient with my kiddos, to not get lost in the craziness of constant diapers and whining and orneriness. To cherish the time I have with them. To be grateful I can homeschool them. To memorize their precious faces and write down their silly words and tickle them and make them laugh. To take a deep breath when they disobey and whine and remember that every moment with them is a gift I don't deserve.
As precious as I find my children, they are infinitely more so to God. I know I can trust him with their futures.
I, like others across the world, am grappling with the reality that evil can and frequently does harm children. I can't help thinking about it when I try to sleep. I pray for those parents with empty beds. I have nightmares of my own. It's always hurt my heart to think of babies suffering, but it seems even more present now that I'm a mother.
It's certainly not new. While there is shock in my mind as I try to wrap my brain about the horrible events in Connecticut, at the same time, I know we've encountered this kind of heartache before. I felt it when those sweet little Amish children were murdered in their school a few years ago. I felt it when a friend of a friend lost their child because of a drunk driver recently. When Oklahoma City was bombed. When little Malachi was suffering. When I think about abortion and orphans and those that I know that have been abused as children. When there's a natural disaster. When I read about the Holocaust or the stories about babies being sacrificed or slaughtered in the Bible.
We want to have a reason for it. We want an easy solution to the problem. We want to feel like we are doing something to keep our children from harm. We want to place the blame on someone, something, like a murderer or a politician or God.
But we don't want to take responsibility for why our children suffer.
It's our own fault. All of us. Every single human on the planet is responsible for this sinful, messed up world.
Children suffer because I sin. I am to blame.
But for Jesus, there would be no hope for us. Sickness, selfishness, murderous evil, all of these are having their day. They seem overwhelming to us now. But the day is coming, soon I hope, when these things will be no more. When wickedness will be restrained eternally, when tears will be wiped away, when Jesus will have his rightful place as King of Kings.
These things comfort my heart now as I am tempted to worry about what my children will face as they grow in this perverse world. I can do what I can to physically protect them. I can follow guidelines and make smart choices and teach them how to be safe. But, let's face it, I cannot control everything. So I teach them about safety and emergencies, but an even greater emphasis is on the big picture--God is in control. God loves us. Bad things happen, but God heals. God is the only place we can find peace and refuge.
Some say that faith in God is a crutch. If so, I'm glad to have it. We are all crippled as we hobble through this world. I'd rather have something I can lean on than try to make it through this mess on my own.
These awful things that happen can teach us to be better parents. This morning, when I opened my eyes far earlier than I wanted to, the first thing I saw was my daughters's smile. Normally, I might roll my eyes and be irritated that she was wide awake so early, but today, I was thankful. Thankful that she and her brothers are here. I have been working to be more patient with my kiddos, to not get lost in the craziness of constant diapers and whining and orneriness. To cherish the time I have with them. To be grateful I can homeschool them. To memorize their precious faces and write down their silly words and tickle them and make them laugh. To take a deep breath when they disobey and whine and remember that every moment with them is a gift I don't deserve.
As precious as I find my children, they are infinitely more so to God. I know I can trust him with their futures.
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