Prayer of the Children

A couple nights ago, Dan and I lay in bed listening to music together. We pulled up some of David Archuletta's music and listened to Prayer of the Children. Having just discussed the Sandy Hook Elementary massacre, the words and music felt heavy in our hearts. Thoughts of all those children lying dead on the classroom floors; hopeful parents searching, and then shrieking in devastation when told their child did not survive; brothers and sisters forced to face loss and emotions that no child (or adult for that matter) should have to feel . . .


These verses in particular struck me as I imagine what these family members are going through:

 Can you feel the hearts of the children aching for home, for something of their very own. Reaching hands with nothing to hold onto but hope for a better day, a better day. Crying Jesus, "Help me to feel the love again in my own land, but if unknown roads lead away from home, give me loving arms, away from harm." 
Can you hear the voice of the children softly pleading for silence in their shattered world? Angry guns preach a gospel full of hate, blood of the innocent on their hands. Crying Jesus, "Help me to feel the sun again upon my face? For when darkness clears, I know you're near, bringing peace again."

Jen called me the other day to see how I was doing, the weight of the news bearing down on her. To be honest, I've stayed away from watching too much of the news. What I experienced with Ty is not the same -- but I do know what it's like to wake up and find your child dead, and the sickening pleading with God to change the outcome -- for someone, anyone with authority, to tell you that what you know in your heart isn't true; and then being a parent forced to wake every morning from dreaming and finding that your reality is your nightmare, hitting you in the gut with a bat with every thought of your child.

Like all of us, I absolutely ache for those family members suffering through their grief. You don't have to experience loss to feel that. I can only pray that they know God and Jesus Christ to help ease them through these hard times. As I've gone about my normal life, shopping and hanging out with friends, I wondered the other day what those parents will do with the Christmas presents that have likely been purchased, perhaps wrapped and hidden with care; the stockings hanging on the wall. . . what a hard time of year Christmas will be. It's absolutely not fair.

On Facebook, I read something that made me mad -- and since I've decided not to respond online, I can only do it here. I'm part of this support group via Facebook that originates in Provo. Most of the mothers in that group have lost babies either through miscarriages, stillbirth, or early infant loss due to congenital problems. I couldn't believe it when one mother basically wrote that she's jealous of all the media attention being given to the Sandy Hook shooting. She complained that no one gave that much attention to her loss or others losses like hers -- that no one was paying for her child's headstone or donating money, or that her child's face was not plastered everywhere. Lots of other moms chimed in with agreement, one saying that "their" kind of losses are one of the hardest ways to lose a child because there is less recognition.

I cannot help but feel how selfish those thoughts are! It's not about the attention given to the kids and parents. The murder of 20 children and 6 adults is horrendous and yes, a mass-murder like this may get more media attention but that is NOTHING to be jealous of. I mean, seriously? Deaths do not need to be compared, especially ones involving children, but to me I can't imagine a  worse loss than by violence and murder. The immense fear and pain those little 6-7 year old bodies must have suffered. . .  But it seems so petty and wrong to be resentful of the respect and attention being given to them. I don't understand comments like that.

Anyway, that's my rant because I don't dare say anything on the support group. The group is there for people to safely express their feelings and I suppose if that's how they feel, they are entitled to it and they have things to work through. It just left a really bad "taste in my mouth", so to speak.

Ok, I need to nap. My body has been so tired lately! But if that's the worst of my problems, I really should not complain. Loss like this always gives me better perspective and appreciation for what I do have.