School started this past week for my children.  My oldest son entered his second grade year with excitement.  He may not admit it all of the time, but he loves school. He grins from ear to ear when walking through the halls, and enjoys being around kids his own age.

My two-year-old seems to be exploding in his development.  Smiles, giggles, energy, and “Watch me, Mommy” all seem to captivate his world right now.  He is a happy, and healthy little boy.

My daughter started Kindergarten – she started Kindergarten!  Watching a little one grow into his or her own unique being, and enter into a new world of discovery, is both exciting and a little nerve-wracking.

The night before school started, I sat by my daughter’s bedside as she said, “I can’t go to sleep, Mommy.  My brain doesn’t want to.”  I know she was feeling anxious about the her first day at school, and tried to encourage her to get some sleep.

“Sing to me, Mommy.” she said. “Sing Twinkle,Twinkle Little Star….”

As I sat beside her singing “Twinkle, Twinkle Little Star”, I looked around her slightly darkened pink and green room, and my eyes landed on her name spelled out in bright pink letters, a Cross hanging by her bed, and more than enough blankets to keep her feeling secure through the night.

As I softly sang to her, and gently rubbed her back, I thought about the mother’s around the world who are doing their best to sing their children to sleep. Under devastatingly tragic conditions, there are so many who are trying their best to soothe their children into a restful night’s sleep.

With the sound of gunfire, threat of violence, and hazards that make up the darkness of night, they might just be whispering….

“Twinkle, Twinkle Little Star,

How I wonder what you are.

Up above the world so high,

Like a diamond in the sky.

Twinkle, Twinkle Little Star,

How I wonder what you are.”

As I sang this song to my daughter, I peered through her curtains into the night sky. I thought about the mother’s looking up into the Heavens and wondering when God will deliver them from despair.

My mind escaped to the mountaintops in Iraq where children, mothers, and fathers are clinging to a sliver of hope…to that glimmer of light in a darkened place.

And then, I turned to my daughter, half-asleep, snuggled into her warm bed, and I felt thankful and sorrowful at the same time.

In my home state, a terrible thing has happened.  A young African-American male was shot and killed by a police officer.  Honestly, I do not know all of the details of what happened.  It is still a tragic and heart-breaking situation, though.

The aftermath has been a week filled with incredible anger and riots. Confusion, chaos, and images of seemingly palpable rage have splattered social media, television, and any form of news outlets.

Behind it all is a mother and a father grieving for their son.  A mother and father who, under tremendously sad conditions, are crying woeful, and deeply afflicting sobs for their son to whom they will no longer feel his embrace, no longer visualize his future, and no longer hear his voice.

“Twinkle, Twinkle Little Star,

How I wonder what you are.

Up above the world so high,

Like a diamond in the sky.

Twinkle, Twinkle Little Star,

How I wonder what you are.”

And then, I turn to my children, half-asleep, snuggled in their warm beds, and I feel thankful and sorrowful at the same time.

I’m thankful that some of my daily challenges as a mother include getting the kids out the door in time, deciding what they need to wear, assuring they are at least trying to use their manners, scheduling their extracurricular activities, and getting home in time to prepare dinner.

And, although it might sound odd, in some way, my heart is so incredibly sorrowful for too many who do not have the luxury of worrying about these things.

I feel guilty…I feel sadness…

My heart is heavy for the mothers whose daily challenges are keeping their babies alive, clothing them in whatever rags they can find, teaching them survival skills, visualizing (if only for a moment) a future for their children that does not include the threat of terror, having a home, a bed, and food, and burying their babies before they even have a chance at a life.  My heart is especially stricken with the thoughts of so many who are being persecuted for their faith or color of skin.

During this past week, I have celebrated my own children’s successes, fresh starts, and fun hobbies.  Not too far from these experiences have been my thoughts of the world to which we live in.

Although my daughter loves it when I sing, “Twinkle, Twinkle Little Star” to her as she drifts off to sleep, my heart is singing…

“Jesus, Jesus Savior Lord, 

How I wonder when You’ll come.

Up above this world so wrong, 

It is Your peace to which I long.

Jesus, Jesus Savior Lord,

How I wonder when You’ll come.”

 

“Jesus, Jesus Savior Lord.  

How I wonder when You’ll come.

Up above this world so torn,

We cry out; our hearts are worn.

Jesus, Jesus Savior Lord,

How I wonder when You’ll come.”

“Do not let your hearts be troubled. Trust in God; trust also in me. In my Father’s house are many rooms; if it were not so, I would have told you. I am going there to prepare a place for you. And if I go and prepare a place for you, I will come back and take you to be with me that you also may be where I am.” – John 14:1-3