I didn’t have a post planned for this morning at all, in fact I don’t really have much planned for this week (besides a little christmas decor tour of my house), and I know that so many fabulous and much better known bloggers have already so eloquently shared their thoughts about Friday’s tragedy. But this is my space, for my words and thoughts and I feel moved to share today, even if it is only a few words.
I usually watch the news several times a day but Friday I was busy spending time with Beth, fellow blogger, and so I didn’t find out until around 3:00 when I logged on to social media and noticed a buzz about something tragic. Like many other mom bloggers out there, the news hit me to the core as I cuddled my baby girl and watched the news about the shooting. When you have a baby (or any age kid for that matter) there is a deep desire in your soul to protect your child from the hate and brokenness in the world. As I watched the news she cooed and giggled in my lap, completely oblivious to the sadness and groaning the entire country was experiencing at the time. In fact, my baby girl will hear about this one day when she is older and feel distant from it, much like many of the current high school students feel so distant from the 9-11 tragedy that we all remember so clearly. And that is okay, that she will never quite feel the depth of sadness that the rest of us felt that day and continue to feel as we think about the events on Friday.
But there is one thing that I do hope she understands one day. I hope she understands this world is Broken and it is not our permanent home. I hope she believes in a God who is good and loving and who will rescue us from this world (even if that is in our death). A God who sent his son to this broken world to save her. Who has love for her so deep that he would sacrifice the one thing closest to him, his son Jesus, and allow him to come here to be mocked, beaten, and killed, for her sake, for all of us.
When I stop and think about Jesus as a baby coming to this earth to be killed and ripped (temporarily) from God’s grasp, I can not really fathom how hard that must have been. Now that I have a baby of my own, I can begin to understand how unbearable that must have been for God. The part that is the hardest to really understand is not the death, but the rejection that had to accompany that death. You see, Jesus bore the weight of this broken world. He bore the hatred, the pride, the deceit the murderous deeds and thoughts, all of the sins. And because of that God could not even look upon his son, he had to turn his face, reject him, because God is good and at that moment his son took on all that is not good. And though he knew that Jesus would rise again and be restored to his arms, He still had to watch it happen. God still had to hear his son say “My God, My God, why have you forsaken me?” He had to keep his face turned while his Son was ripped from his being.
I have a baby, who is sleeping in the other room dreaming sweet baby dreams, whose worst nightmare right now is that mommy won’t giver her milk in time. Her life is pure innocence. However, she lives in this broken world under my care. I am unable to protect her from the brokenness forever. One day she will see it with her own eyes and understand it with her own heart. I pray that on that day her heart will hurt and long for something bigger and good. Long for a God who is love and turn to him. I pray that like her father and I, she will find that God.
My job until that day (and beyond) is to be the light that guides her there. My job is to teach her about His love and peace. To help her to understand his sacrifice. But the thing is, I am part of this broken world too, which makes me broken. It makes us all broken. I can not do this task alone. I must rely on God, I must give up all control over her path to Him. And that is the hardest thing I will ever have to do.
My heart hurts for the families in Connecticut that lost their babies, mommies and sisters and for the children who experienced pure evil and lived. Those families will never be the same. I pray that they turn to God, not away from him. I pray that they one day feel His peace again and one day find healing for their broken hearts. I pray that the world will look for God’s light in this brokenness, because God is the only reason we have to go on to another day in light of Friday’s tragedy.