Heavy Heart

Finally, last week I started to feel like it was really Christmas. I wasn't really feeling the spirit of the season to that point, but finally, after finishing most of the shopping, I jumped headlong into my favorite part - the baking. I have many other things that are on the "should do" list. My house isn't nearly as clean as I would like, and it sure could use a good scrubbing, but the thought kept circling in my head, "what will the kids remember - your sparkly clean house or the smell of cookies, Christmas music playing, and happiness?" The answer was quite obvious.

Then, driving over to my Grandma's house, I heard the horrible news about the Connecticut shooting. Usually, I am home to get the kids off the bus, but we were short a helper that day, so I was going to stay from 1:30 to 6 p.m. My heart was sick thinking about not being there to get my kids off the bus. I sent Craig a text around the time the kids got home, asking how they were. I felt relieved that I had thought ahead to pack a special snack and leave a note for them. I wanted nothing more to be there and hold them.

As much as I try to push the events out of my mind, I just can't. I feel like there is a heavy weight on my heart, thinking of those precious children who died such a horrible, terrifying death. All those children whose ages were right in between Eliza and Eric's ages. Craig and I decided we had to tell our kids. We didn't want to, but we wanted them to hear it from us. We sat there trying to explain something to our children that we couldn't understand ourselves, it felt so helpless and scary. We both cried as we searched for the words to explain it all. Eliza cried. Deep, sobbing tears. She is fearful. We tried to remain calm and strong, explaining over and over the hope we have in Christ. We can't control this life, but we do know that if we trust in our Savior, He is all we need.

I haven't slept much the last couple of nights. Eliza is feeling sick this morning, so she stayed home. I put Eric on the bus with a heavy heart, praying harder than usual for God to protect him while he is away from us. It really makes me think. How do I talk to my children? If these are the last words they ever hear, will I regret it? I noticed the sibling squabbles shook me up more than usual this weekend. I want them to love each other. I don't want them to hurt each other - with words or fists. I want this home to be a safe haven where they feel loved, accepted, and cherished. I want them to love family deeply, and know that they are always safe here.

I keep telling myself that I cannot let horrible people steal my joy. Christ was born at Christmas to heal this broken world. I plan to spend the day centering myself in God, drinking in His Word, and hopefully, I will emerge stronger in Him, and able to face these uncertain days.