When Evil Visits.

I told my six-year old, Mercy, about the Newtown, CT shooting, the day it happened.

I held her in my lap as I tearfully explained that a bad man had done a very bad thing by killing about 20 kids and six adults, and also himself.  I explained that he was dead and couldn't hurt anyone anymore.  She cried with me.  We watched the President's first public response together and cried some more. I held her tight into my chest, and lamented that those parents who lost their babies could no longer feel that wholeness.

The experience in telling her these things was a bit unreal, and perhaps some parents would disagree with me that I did it in the first place--why expose a young, innocent mind to the evils of this world so early?

My reasoning was two-fold: first, I wanted her to hear it from me before she had the chance to potentially hear it from busmates, classmates, or her teacher.  She is in fact only in first grade, but I cannot control the exposure she has outside of my care.  So I wanted to teach her a proper reaction, which leads to my second reason: I wanted her to see that it is okay to be sad about these sorts of things. The Bible says to "mourn with those who mourn," and even though we don't personally know these people, we are still connected in many ways.  

Little did I know that she would stand up in class on Monday and make an announcement about the shooting.  I guess with her teacher's permission, Mercy gave about a five minute speech about Sandy Hook Elementary.  I had her recount to me what she told them, a little afraid that I would be receiving angry phone calls from parents.  After what she told me, though, I must say she did a pretty good job.  She gave them a limited account of the event.  She talked about how the parents would be missing their children, and families would be missing their family.  She reassured her peers, stating that the reason they have practice drills at school are to ensure that nothing like that would ever happen to them.  She also reassured them that the children who died are now in Heaven where God can protect them.  That last part there kinda made me gasp...oooh, talking about Heaven in school?  Well, even though we believe in Heaven in our house, I hope it doesn't ruffle any feathers at a state institution.  But so far, I haven't gotten any feedback so I think that means we are in the clear.

After I told a friend about what Mercy said, they asked me what I believe Heaven to be.  So many people think of the fluffy white clouds, playing harps and the like.  I know there are plenty of Biblical references to Heaven, which can sometimes seem a bit cryptic (although I did find Randy Alcorn's book 'Heaven' to be helpful in understanding some of these verses).  I think it is because Heaven is a place we haven't truly experienced here on earth.  The only way I can accurately describe what I believe it to be is where everything is made right.  We all get the sense that something is off in this world, that there are hopes that need fulfillment, injustices that need retribution, and decay that needs restoration.  

In an abridged exposure to this world's painful reality, my hope is for Mercy and my other children that they can be trained how to appropriately respond and love others during these strange tragedies.  My prayer is that they don't turn into cynics, but instead they turn into blossoming love machines who have eternity in mind.  

And with that, I leave you with this, a few lyrics and a quote that have affected me as I long for Heaven and Jesus to make everything new.

"There’s a time for peace and there is a time for war
a time to forgive and a time to settle the score
a time for babies to lose their lives
a time for hunger and genocide
this too shall be made right."

-Derek Webb

 

“If we find ourselves with a desire that nothing in this world can satisfy, the most probable explanation is that we were made for another world." 

― C.S. Lewis

The Hidden Scourge.

Part of the reason that I named this blog 'mom, interrupted' was because I took it after the film/book 'Girl, Interrupted,' where a young woman goes into a psych ward after she learns she has a mental disorder.  As many of you know, I have struggled with OCD since I was a child, which has led to anxiety and depression in my adult life.  Even though my anxieties are completely irrational, I still find myself facing them on an almost daily basis. 

When I tell people about this affliction, I often recount the time when I was in third grade and thought I was having a brain aneurism in the middle of Jewel.  I started screaming and knelt down, telling my mom and sister that they needed to call an ambulance.  They just walked away pretending they didn't know me.  You know...I don't blame them.  They knew I was fine, but I was convinced I was dying!  If I learned some new type of disorder, I had it.  Flesh-eating strep.  Skin cancer.  The list goes on.

Since I've gotten married and had children, I still struggle from time to time.  Poor Rob has had to deal with me and my obsessive thoughts on too many occasions to count.  Last night was one of them.

I laid in bed, fixated on some of my ailments, and Rob asked me to specify what they were.  I had a rattle in my lungs: lung cancer.  I had pressure behind my left eye: brain tumor.  I had cramps on my left side: ovarian cyst.  I had a pain in my left calf: bone cancer.  I had heart palpitations: looming heart attack.  And, to top it all off, I have been worried that I worry too much and will give myself an early stroke!  I can laugh about it now, but in the moment I am too absorbed in my feelings that I cannot get out of that mindset.

The root of it all is being completely out of control of the things that happen to me.  I think I can control them by worrying, somehow managing to 'catch it early' if something bad were to happen.  But in the meantime, I waste hours upon hours of my life, and my loved ones are affected negatively.  

Last night I gave in to the worries and just brooded over the endless possibilities.  But some days I am victorious over the irrational, able to not let my feelings master my reason.  OCD and anxiety do not define me as a person:  they are not who I was created to be, and my whole life I will continue to battle these 'natural' inclinations because I don't want to settle that this is the way I am.  I want to trust Jesus when gives the wisdom and command to "not worry" in Matthew 6.  Worrying surely does not add an hour to my life, if anything, it takes it away.  

If you struggle with anxiety or depression, tell me about it here.  What do you do to cope?