The Lord is near to the brokenhearted
and will save those who spirits are crushed.
Psalm 34:18
I hear my daughter come down the stairs and pass by the room
where I am engaged in my morning ritual of prayer and journaling. I am
typically the first awake in my house, and for years my early mornings have
been accompanied by the stirring of other family members. Part of my mind and
heart listen for those movements: feet on the stairs, drawers opening in rooms
above me, the bathroom door opening and closing. Ubiquitous signs that my
daughters are up and about and greeting the new day.
I listen also for their well-being. After 17 years in this
house, I can tell if a footfall is tired or joyous or anxious or hopeful.
The daughter I hear this morning is an adult now, home for
the summer and teaching at a local children’s theatre. Other parents place the
well-being of their children in her hands for a few hours each day. And still I
am attentive to her spirit. My heart remains vulnerable. It is a small step for
me to be seared by the pain of those who have lost their children. To illness,
to suicide, to murder, to gun violence, to addiction, to terror.
Jesus gathered children. Jesus held up a child as the symbol
of the Kingdom of God. Jesus brought children to life.
I wrap my own daughters in prayer this morning, and I cast
my prayer as far as I can to encompass other children and other parents, knowing
that this is not enough, but it is where I begin.
image credit: alexlinch / 123RF Stock Photo
