Vulnerable

I am struggling today. A beautiful girl that both Ross and I know was found brutally murdered at her apartment in Macon. It has shaken us both. Ross called from work this morning after looking at a picture on his desk. There she was, standing next to all of his closest friends on his 30th birthday. I didn't know her as well as Ross did but enjoyed her very much and was excited for her new venture into law school at Mercer. I am broken for her family. I am broken for what she didn't get to have. I am even, as my best friend reminded me, a little broken for whatever was inside of the person who did this.

I woke up this morning angry, despite rich prayer with Ross last night. I was in physical pain, emotional pain and incredibly unrested. R took the baby for an early morning waffle house date and let me get some much needed sleep. But still, I woke up so sad.

I have been unable to pinpoint what is making me so sad (other than the obvious). I hadn't spoken to her since she left Atlanta, knowing only about her adventures through facebook. But as I sat at lunch with our precious Stanfield girls, I called Ross to see if he was home from work for lunch. He was, and instead of a playdate, I said I needed to go home. I needed for my husband to hold me. I needed to rest my head on his chest and tell me that he would protect us. I realized the feeling. I felt unsafe. I felt vulerable.

And while he did hold me and tell me that he would do everything to protect these girls of his, I know that ultimately, he cannot be the protector. I have spoken on here of precious Kate Mcrae, battling an awful brain cancer. Her parents's faith (and hers) have inspired me daily. In her last post, her mom said something that haunts me. "...when life still feels uncertain, unpredictable and painful, we look to the One who can heal, not only Kate's body, but our hearts as well."

In my efforts to not think about all the 'what ifs' of having to endure what Lauren's family is enduring, I am giving myself a headache. My heart hurts for them, and for the idea that this does happen, every day, in this broken, broken world. Tonight my husband is picking up a pizza and meeting MK and I at the park for a picnic to see his girl swing and squeal and eat woodchips. He doesn't want to ask any friends along, just wants to comfort his wife and revel in the good of the world. But, precious Lord forbid, if we ever face such terror in our lives of a family member lost so horrifically or a child fighting so valiantly, I hope we can do as Kate's mom is doing-trust that someday, somehow, HE will heal our hearts.

Please, please pray tonight for the family of Lauren Giddings. Please pray for what I'm sure for them feels impossible, that their hearts will be healed.