‘ve re-written this blog post numerous times. I usually do not have a hard time writing, but my heart aches and I think where we were 8 years ago at this time, the grief journey that 20 parents are barely beginning, and I cannot wrap my brain around their mind images. It was difficult with our son’s death in our home, and our two sons finding him. Yes, it was bad – yet nothing like the horrific deaths of 20 little boys and girls. And I’ve wept for children who have horrible images in their minds, because I know how the images of our son’s death hurt our children. And I’ve wept for the parents who want to see their children again for a final good-bye, and can’t.
I think of my husband’s deep, inconsolable sobs in bed that morning after our son’s death, as our twin girls sat on the floor by his side of the bed, burying their heads in the covers near him, also sobbing. Those howls of grief another blogger wrote of, I can still hear. I remember mine . . . And I think of it multiplied . . . those in the Newtown, CT community, grieving with such deep uncontrollable, inconsolable sobs, the nightmare in their minds.
I think of the Messianic prophecy fulfilled in Jeremiah 31:15
Thus saith Jehovah:
A voice is heard in Ramah,
and bitter weeping,
Rachel weeping for her children;
she refuseth to be comforted for her children,
because they are not.
And I imagine the cries and deep grief in Bethlehem is a similar sound in Newtown.
Mama’s and Daddy’s cannot be comforted, because their children are not .
We ask where God is, the why’s and what good can become of this. With eight years behind us, healing never quite completed, and the scar oozing at times, I know as Jesus wept when his friend died, Jesus wept with us when our son died, and Jesus weeps with those weeping over the 26 precious lives. I know God is a Man of sorrows, and acquainted with grief and though the days are so dark at the beginning of the grief journey. And yes, I know God can bring good out of it. For us, knowing lives were saved because of Matthew‘s death from both the choking game and finding God, will be worth it all, when we see Jesus. But the fog is too thick in Newtown to see that now.
And we weep with those that weep. I do. You do.
And I know the Father is dear during our deep grief, howls groans.
Likewise the Spirit helps us in our weakness.
For we do not know what to pray for as we ought,
but the Spirit himself intercedes for us
with groanings too deep for words.
In the meantime, the pain will be deep.
Empty beds will haunt.
Unopened gifts under the tree are bigger than they are.
Sirens will be louder than ever.
Screams make them shudder.
And surviving children will be held tighter –
and at times, parents, are unwilling to let them go . . . because, what if….
The night will be long. Joy will begin to seep through as the dawn slowly rises.
And the Man of Sorrows will never leave or forsake, keeping all of our tears.
We will continue to weep with those that weep, pray for them, and hold them close in our hearts.