My husband and I want to express our deepest sympathies to the families who lost a child (or were impacted in some way) by the Parkland school shooting. Our hearts are heavy for you, along with thousands or millions across the nation. We ache for your loss.

photo cred. Jim Rassol. Orlando Sentinel

Your beloved children died, murdered, at school—a place they should have been safe—on Valentine’s Day, of all days. The day we give cards and gifts to show love to those we care about, became a horrific day of suffering and carnage for you. Your lives have been changed. Forever altered. We are so very sorry.

When you said “goodbye” Wednesday morning, it was the beginning of a day like any other. You had no idea it would be the last time you would ever see your son or daughter alive.

My mind has gone in many directions since I heard the terrible news. But one thought I keep returning to is this:

No one knows what the future holds. We have no guarantee of another day with those we love.

We need to be more thankful for each other and for our many blessings.

Yes, even for our difficult children who drive us crazy and keep us up at night. We can start by expressing thanks for the basics: the roof over our heads, the food we eat, the clothes we wear. Let’s think about the good in our lives rather than on what’s wrong or what we wish was different.

Dear parent of a wayward, troubled child, I understand that sometimes it feels impossible to be thankful, especially when their issues are life-threatening. We get stuck on what we’re upset about, the danger our child’s in, or how much they need to change. Grumbling and complaining are far easier than voicing gratitude. As wounded parents, we have every right to grumble and complain about our children who are still in process. Our reasons are endless: They haven’t overcome their issues yet. They can be rude and disrespectful, sometimes hateful. They’ve hurt us a lot. Some days we have to dig deep to find a reason to be thankful.

But don’t forget this one thing: right now . . . today . . .  at this moment . . . our children are still alive. It’s not over yet. Their story is still being written . . . and so is ours.

A dear friend of mine says emphatically, “As long as they’re still breathing, there’s still hope!” 

There. Is. Still. Hope.

Our perspective matters. How we process our experiences makes a difference.

What Can You Do?

Several years ago, when I despaired over my daughter, someone challenged me to start a gratitude journal; to begin each day by reflecting on my last twenty-four hours and write down at least one thing I was thankful for. I didn’t think I could but decided to try. As of today, my list totals over 6,500. That’s a lot of blessings—big and small: I saw a hummingbird in our backyard this afternoon and last night my daughter told me she’s proud of the way we use our pain to help other parents. I’ll highlight that one!

Whenever I’m down or discouraged, I flip open my gratitude journal and thumb through the well-worn pages. Each item reminds me of God’s goodness. They lift my eyes above the storm, increase my faith, and help me focus elsewhere. The pity party I was going to have gets canceled. After all, things could always be worse—like we saw at Marjory Stoneman Douglas High School.

“Gratitude bestows reverence, allowing us to encounter everyday epiphanies, those transcendent moments of awe that change forever how we experience life and the world.”  – Sarah Ban Breathnach

If you’re down or discouraged about your child today, why not start a gratitude journal? The Bible encourages us with these words . . . Give thanks in all circumstances . . . (1 Thessalonians 5:18).

What can you be thankful for right now?

Prayer: God of Compassion, there have been many wonderful changes in my child’s life, yet I tend to overlook them. Some days they all go out the window with another poor choice. They’re still in process, but often I’m blinded by the negative that looms large. Help me shift perspective and place my focus on something I can be grateful for. You’ve done so much for me throughout my life. Today, my child is still alive. There’s still hope. Thank you. In Your mighty name. Amen.

**Please join us as we pray for the grieving families of Parkland, Florida, in the weeks and months ahead.