There are days when I open my phone, and scroll my newsfeed and instantly regret checking Facebook. News headlines and tragedies sit in front of me, daily, while I log onto what is supposed to be a fun site for me to visit and interact with friends.
Just in about a month's time, I've learned of two elementary students in our area in the same school both diagnosed with cancer; I've read the Stanford rape letter; I learned about a father who accidentally left his eight month old in the car; I've learned about the fatal shooting of a young singer; we all know about the recent mass shooting in Orlando and then the third strategy strike for Orlando - a child was dragged off of a beach near Disney by a gator. A small, innocent two year old on vacation is now currently being searched for by helicopters in dark waters as I write this post.
My stomach hurts. My eyes sting. And my chest is tight.
Those babies...every last one of them. From the baby in the car to the fifty deaths in Orlando, those were ALL someone's baby.
No one EVER said motherhood was going to be this tough. I may have been warned about sleepless nights and baby poop, but I was never warned about this. No one warns you about how tragedy that unfolds in your community or even far away within your country, makes you want to curl into a ball with your children while building a bubble around you to keep you there for FOREVER. I mean, there's Amazon and Netflix and I can make milk from almonds...so we can survive, right?
But, I'll go ahead and say it. I'm the mom who goes to bed sometimes and wonders if these tragedies will ever strike me. I'm the mom who wonders why we are all tucked safely into our beds when another mother is searching for her two year old in the waters right now. I'm the mom who questions everything at times, simply because I'm scared.
I know we are not supposed to question; we are supposed to have faith. We are supposed to believe. We are supposed to put all of our faith in the big man in the clouds (as I teach my daughter) and pray that he hears our cries, our pleas and our prayers. That he hears how badly we want to see our child graduate preschool, go to prom and get married one day. He hears how much we want our children to become parents of their own so they can experience this unconditional love that is so indescribable, and we even hope that he hears our prayers that we'll be able to witness it all too.
So while I seriously, and I mean seriously, want to lock the doors and keep us in a bubble, I know that I can't. This world that God created is too beautiful for that and my babies deserve to feel the grass, chase the butterflies and see the views that are far and near.
When I gave birth, I didn't just push out a cute, squishy little human. I birthed out an unconditional love. I delivered my heart right there for the world to see.
You see, my heart has legs, ten toes and ten fingers. Times two. My hearts are thankfully tucked warmly into their beds right now. And for that Father, I thank you.
Kiss them goodnight, hold them tight, close the door and pray.
That's all we can do. We can't live in fear and we certainly can't live in bubbles (welllll we probably could if we really wanted). We can just have faith. So whether you believe in God or believe in the sun and the stars, it doesn't matter. We just have to believe and have faith that our prayers, our wishes and/or our pleas are heard.
Someone, somewhere hears them. And for me, that someone is God.
So, I just have to have faith.
And perhaps I can just check my newsfeed a little less.