There have been a lot of hurtful, cruel and senseless tragedies lately. Events have occurred since Cameron was born that have me scared for him. Prior to being pregnant I would still have shed a tear, still have prayed and lit a candle but this feeling in the pit of my stomach - that one is new. I didn't run home to hold Cameron when I heard the news on Friday, and yet I know a lot of people that did. I gotta say I don't blame them. This is a judge free zone.
I find my mind trying to wrap itself around stories and motives. I am constantly wondering why these things keep happening and what is going on in our world where people feel that these kinds of tragic events are the answers. I go to the media, but then curse them at the same time for giving the people that committed these acts a sense of "15 minutes of fame". Fame that the next hurtful person will want more of, I'm sure.
I pray for the little hearts, the brothers and the sisters that have never known loss like they do now. I pray that they grow up always knowing the true meaning of love even though someone tried to shatter the love inside of them. It is my wish that they don't let the darkness win.
After Friday's events, Tim called wanting to know how to keep Cameron home forever. All in the name of protecting him, but yet never wanting to impede his adventurous spirit or his independence we wondered if either one of us had the brains or the patience for home-schooling.
This parenting thing is hard. It doesn't surprise me, I always knew it was an intense battle of wits, it's just that in moments like these I can feel it in my toes. in the pit of my stomach. in the depths of my heart.
Little children are a bright and shiny light in our world as we know it.
Hug. Pray. Hope for healed hearts.
Most of all though, we have to keep believing in the goodness of people and the kindness of the soul.
In the end it's got to help doesn't it?
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