Tears run down my cheeks.
I wipe them away.
My 11 year old daughter pulls my hair away from my face, “Why do you cry?”
“You’ll understand more when you are a mom,” I replied.
She looked puzzled.
“Your heart relates because of how much you love your own kids,” I said.
As a mother, when I see the faces of the moms, something inside me shreds and falls in a heap to the floor.
And part of me stands in wonder at the heart that sacrificed His own Son, for us. How could He knowingly do that? Knowing what and who we are/were/will be?
I hammered the nails with my sin. And He willingly laid down His own life.
I weep, with the rest of our nation. For loss, for death, for trauma for families where the world is not a safe place any more.
And I ask Jesus to help them, to love them, to help them find their way to You in the midst of this horror… and I quietly whisper, “Show us where You are in the midst of this…I know You are there, help them…help us see You.”
And I pray for the mothers and fathers…
And hold mine a little tighter tonight.
Love to you as we cry together,