“And in that very moment, away behind in some courtyard of the city, a cock crowed. Shrill and clear he crowed, recking nothing of war nor of wizardry, welcoming only the morning that in the sky far above the shadows of death was coming with the dawn.”
Tolkien, LOTR – Two Towers
One of my favorite depictions of light racing over the horizon to pierce the darkest night
I have grieved, sobbed, prayed, been sleepless, felt frantic about my children, and almost let fear have me.
Mostly, I have stayed away from the media because I do deal with a small amount of paranoia at times. I’ve read two things that have helped. I will share them with you here now, in the case you haven’t come across them.
Christ came to us in the darkest of times. Herod murdered thousands of young boys hoping that he could eliminate Jesus, the new King. And yet, “the Word became flesh and dwelt among us.” ”In him was life, and that life was the light of all mankind. The light shines in the darkness, and the darkness has not overcome it.” John 1:14, 4-5
This Christmas will be different. As mothers across our country celebrate with their children, I know it will be on all our hearts to think of the mothers who are without one of theirs. Christ came into our world in a time such as this, and His light seemed all the brighter for the darkness. I pray for His Peace to surround the mourning families and also for the light of His Hope, His Love to pierce us all.
The second thing I came across this evening has helped me put aside the unhealthy areas of sadness and fear. It comes from the From Scratch Club, mom Alexis writes some wonderful thoughts in “Reflection on a Tragedy; Cooking for the Moment.”
This spoke to me because it summed me up in a way that made me feel like I wasn’t crazy, “I ruminate over these thoughts, imagining what it was like for others, imagining what could still happen, because somewhere in my mind there’s a belief that thinking about it will prepare me for the worst. If something horrible happens, I will be ready. Or so my irrational mind tells itself. In reality, there is no way to mentally prepare for something as horrific as the events in Newtown. We do ourselves, and our families, no justice by ruminating about the past or future… The best I can do for myself and for my children, today and for every day they are with me, is to pay attention to the present.”
And give Christ the rest.
My heart still aches for the families. My prayers still go out to them and over all children and over my children. But in this moment, I will try to make my corner brighter.
Have a Christ-filled Christmas.
Oh how He loves us, how He loves us so.