I had a very well thought out plan today to update our blog about the adoption. I haven't posted since October and its been a wild few months and this whole writing thing is a coping mechanism for me........but the expansion of our family, seems exponentially insignificant when so many families got smaller today. An adoption update will come, but I need to write about today.
Cole had a doctors appointment this morning before school. Usually in the mornings, the first thing he does is ask me to put in the Christmas CD that's been on repeat since the last week in October. Today he sat quietly in the backseat and gazed out the window. He was thinking. Right before we pulled in to the doctors office he said, "Mom, did you know that there was an attack on America in New York?" My heart stopped. "Yes, I did know that. It was in 2001." He replied, "can you tell me what happened?" So I did. I explained why America is a hated country, why "bad men" wanted to kill Americans, and how they did it. And I started crying. And so did Cole. Today was the first day that I ever explained the essence of evil to my precious son. In his tiny little 6 year old body there is an enormous, deeply effected heart. There's so much of me in him. The hurt. The way his brain grasps from every angle to comprehend the pain. And the way it bothers him that it just never can. That there is no justification for the loss of life. He gets it. My sweet Cole has a heart for the hurting. It started with orphans. The first time he learned that there aren't enough orphanages or foster homes for all of the kids in the world without Moms and Dads.....and that some of them will die from hunger, disease, lack of clean drinking water, abuse.....I could see it in his eyes. At the ripe age of 6 he's deciding to make a difference. And the first step is that he deeply cares.......and he loves Jesus. Its a HUGE first step.
I remember 9/11 like it was yesterday. I was a freshman at USC in Columbia and I was up getting ready for class when the phone rang and my Mom told me to turn on the TV. NYC was familiar to me. We spent so much time there when I was growing up visiting my grandparents that lived in NJ right outside the city. I was tuning in as they were replaying footage of the first plane hitting the towers. The loss of human life at the hands of raw evil. Its been 11 years and my mind is nowhere closer to understanding why. Since then, school shootings, church shootings, suicide bombers, child rape, sex trafficking, and a sickeningly long list of other tragedies are everywhere you look. There's no escaping it. Last night I went to bed praying for a little boy in Texas that's Coles age. His father carved a pentagram into his back with a box cutter. It was hard for me to think Christian thoughts when I read that. It was impossible to hold back the tears. To hurt for this little boy. For his broken heart. For his abused body.
And today. I'm still sick to my stomach. It feels so cliche to say that I'm heavy hearted....but that's what it is. My heart feels like pile of metal in my chest, sitting on my lungs. I couldn't get to daycare fast enough, I all but ignored the lady at the front desk that wanted to be nicey nice, I grabbed my Zella and my Cole and I didn't even try to hold it together. My sweet Cole. The same age as so many of the children lost today. His entire everything just on the horizon......I cannot even fathom. I tucked them in tonight and prayed over them and lost it again.....and the idea of 20 mothers and father tonight with an empty bed in their homes. With unwrapped gifts and an empty stocking. Its senseless. And after our talk about 9/11 this morning it occurred to me that Cole is growing up. And the evil one is already fighting for him. And I can't hide him. So I knew I had to tell him. And that tears were okay. So in the car tonight, on the way home, with the sound of Zella obnoxiously chewing her Bugles in the background, I talked to Cole about what happened in Connecticut today. There were no questions, just a very very long pause. And from the back seat, I heard his tiny voice say, "he must not have loved Jesus." YES COLE! And then he reminded me that Jesus says to love each other as He loved us.....and Jesus loved everyone and everything. And from darkness, there was light, from the pure innocent, heart of my little blue eyed, light on a hill. And I cried.
I've read so much today. Its to the point where I'm going to have to put myself on media restriction. Immediately parents are getting bashed for sending their kids to public school and not homeschooling them. Gun control laws are back in the forefront of the political arena because apparently guns kill people, not psychopaths carrying guns. Today, teachers and children died. We can immediately put a bill on the table to enforce gun control, but can't say a prayer in school. I'm pretty sure that with the state of our country that there should be a pause for prayer upon entry and exit to everywhere we go. Last night I went to Cole's elementary school Christmas program. Two songs about Hanukkah, one song in Spanish that I didn't understand a word of, a reading about Kwanzaa, one rudolph the red nosed reindeer and a santa clause is coming to town, santa hats, Christmas lights, garland and glitter......and not one mention of Jesus. Zellas Christmas performance was on Tuesday. Just 5 years ago Jake and I sat in the same room and listened to the daycare director weep as she read the story of Jesus' birth directly from the Bible on her podium. We both opened and closed with prayer. This year, one song that referenced God but never actually said His name and some cute angel hats. I hope I'm not the only one putting the pieces together. Kids are killing other kids. Younger and younger and younger these children are screaming for someone to listen to them. Half of them have never heard the name "Jesus". They have no idea that He's their option. He's their out. He's their advocate. He's their friend. He loves them. Tragedies produce a spirit of fear. Fear is not from God. I refuse to trap my children at home because the evil one lurks. If we choose to stay at home, he will attack us at home. If we choose to go to the mall or a movie, he'll find a way. Every breath of our days is a battle for our souls. As Christians, we don't have to fight this fight. We know who wins. That story never changes. But our children, until they find this peace. Until they find their security in Christ......until they learn what it means to love like Christ first loved us, they will fight the fight. So what happens to the kids that never hear it? The ones that don't hear it at home and are offered a "moment of silence" instead of prayer and have no idea what type of foundation our country was built on? Today is what happens. Aurora, CO happens. Columbine happens.
Not in this house. We will teach our children to shout out His name from the rooftops. To never stop praying. To LOVE people. To reach people. To hurt with people. That tears are okay. That mistakes happen. That no one is perfect. That forgiveness is always a better option. That it might not be easy, but we are never alone. That we will never ever understand the evil of this world, but we will take hope in the promise of greater things to come with Jesus.
When I hear the pitter patter of feet in the morning, I will remind myself to thank God for that sound. When they fight, I will thank God that I can hear their voices. And when they pray, at dinner, at bedtime, in the car, I will thank God for relentlessly pursuing me and Jake and changing our lives, so that we can change theirs. If the most important thing I ever do in my life is give my kids Jesus, thats enough. I know, no matter what happens to any of us, I gave them life. And I'll see them again.
My tears, thoughts and most importantly my prayers are with all of the families effected tonight.
"I have told you these things, so that in me, you may have peace. In this world, you will have trouble. But take heart! I have overcome the world." John 16:33
