It only takes one status update to send you reeling. Last night I closed my eyes to avoid seeing the devastation. Selfishly, I just wanted a peaceful night’s sleep. This morning I cocooned the boys in the safety of Shaun the Sheep on Netflix. I vowed that not even a milisecond of breaking news would interrupt our predictable morning routine.
Because there just aren’t words. I can’t answer their questions. And, quite frankly, the look of fear and confusion that spreads on their sweet faces when they finally do hear about a tragic event is more than I can stand.
But once they were off to school and preschool, I succumbed. The television in front of the YMCA’s treadmill was tuned to the morning news, offering a steady stream of horrifying pictures and grief-stricken people.
Again. Here we are again. Hearts aching. Hands to our mouths to stifle the tears. How can this be? Lord, where are You?
But we are a people of hope and as always, hope rises from the rubble and stories of extraordinary sacrifice begin to pre-empt the body count.
Again. The teachers. Putting their bodies between those entrusted to their care and the freight train bearing down on them.
Who does that?
One of the news anchors reunites a teacher with a child she shielded during the storm and the boy manages to squeak out a few words of gratitude.
It’s teacher appreciation week at the boys’ school and I’m scrambling tonight to assemble cute little gift card holders. It seems rather trite, doesn’t it? A gift card for a person who would stand in the path of a hurricane or even take a bullet so that my child would be spared?
You are in our hearts and in our prayers, Oklahoma. We know you will continue to rise from the rubble and offer us hope.
Romans 15:13 May the God of hope fill you with all joy and peace in believing, so that by the power of the Holy Spirit you may abound in hope.