I’ve been quiet, lost, mourning, fearful… angry. I can’t seem to find the right words and I am not even close to having any answers. I’ve listened quietly and I’ve read opinions. I’ve found people pointing blame, turning against one another. People mad at this group for saying something and that group for not. Pouring rage into someone because they tried to expand the light through the doors of the trouble our world is in and dimming the light off of this most recent tragedy. I’ve seen tragedy continue to happen and tears continue to fall.
When I first saw the scrolling news and first learned of the actions that took place all I could see there was my son. My tall, skinny, dirty blonde, blue-eyed son. Who’s biggest trouble in the morning is finding his batman mask and cape. I could see him in that classroom more afraid than he’s ever been. I saw myself on the outside as helpless as I could have ever imagined I’d be. A dream, an illusion, someone else’s reality that I allowed my mind to go and my heart to break. As the hours and now days have passed I still find myself troubled, so deeply affected. I can’t bring myself to study their names, to see their ages, to see their beautiful little faces. I’m not ready for that. It is a way to block the magnitude of the hurt and grieving that I know I can’t go to right now.
Some are screaming for gun control, others for more help in mental health, some of them thankfully, are pounding down doors and demanding that God take a presence where He has been removed. I’m not here to push any one agenda. Do I believe God should be in my life, my children’s lives, and yours? Without a doubt, I do. I’m here to say I’m scared. I don’t know what to do. What actions to take or even how to prepare my own kids for something like this in their lives.
My oldest son has recently started having daily meltdowns where he turns into a different child. He is normally a very sweet and loving child, who is more sensitive than his brothers, but recently he has started really acting out and showing such hate in his face. All of the sudden I’m looking for every bit of evidence that he has some kind of mental problem rather than just letting him be a kid and express normal human kid emotions the way a kid would do. As parents how do we know what to do? What do we treat, what do we not? What should we concern ourselves with and punish and what should we not? Everything is starting to be such a blur. Spank, don’t spank, don’t yell, make sure they feel love, but not too much love, don’t coddle them, don’t excuse them.
On the other side of things I find myself looking for escape plans and running scenarios through my head on the best action to take if someone approaches us in a harmful way. All the while drowning out their laughter and conversations around who can run faster or jump higher.
My husband, a teacher…. A teacher. I won’t even let myself go there with him. I can’t put my husband in that room as a teacher. It is way too close and way too real. I know exactly what he would do. Exactly. All I can hope is that he is still fast enough to get to the attacker before damage is done because I know exactly what action he would take. Every day he walks into that school could be the day it happens. There have been two instances at that school where I begged him to be careful. Two times when I thought it was getting way too close to our lives and that my husband was in possible danger. And this year, one suicide just a couple short weeks ago, and 3 killed in a murder suicide just this past weekend.
The fear is no way to live. It has no business having control in my life. Don’t be afraid to love and show love. Don’t be afraid to feel, love, and enjoy. Don’t be afraid to help, to get involved. Always let people know what they mean to you. Let that tear run down your cheek because a group at work are signing traditional Christmas Carols. Enjoy your life and live the best life you possibly can. Pray and praise. That's really all we can do.