I had a conversation with a friend today about all that is going on in the world lately. We talked about how we don’t even want to think the phrase, “How much worse can it get?” because it seems like you wake up the next morning, and the world has unfortunately answered your question. 😔
We shared feelings of hopelessness and confusion, and quite honestly, pain. We allowed raw emotion to spill out. Humanness. We sat there for a few minutes with the weight of it all, as we ran out of words to express what our guts have been feeling. And then the day snapped us back to reality, and we were quickly reminded of our schedules and all of the To Do’s we had to hurry up and get done today. We both welcomed their distraction.
About an hour ago, as I scrolled through my feed, I was made aware of the 8.0 magnitude earthquake that just hit Mexico. And like a flood, this morning’s conversation came pouring back over me.
I marinated in it for a few minutes, and as I felt myself falling deeper and deeper into Despair’s pit, out loud, I whispered, “Jesus.”
My rapid descend ended abruptly, and I was now marinating in the weight of who Jesus is.
I don’t know what is going to happen next on this dear planet that we all share. I don’t know how to possibly comfort the billions of people on the planet who are hurting right now. Who are scared. Who don’t know what their futures will look like. I just. Don’t. Know.
But when that name rolled off of my tongue and crawled over my parted lips, I sunk in to Him. I do know Him.
I don’t know what’s coming next. But I do know Him. I don’t know how to fix all of the world’s problems. But I do know Him. I don’t know how to protect mankind from such devastating disasters. But I do know Him.
I am a mother to two precious little beings. When they hurt, I hurt with them and want to do everything I can to take their pain away. When they are scared, I wrap them up tightly and protect them with a fierceness that Darkness dare not cross. I remind them that as long as they are with me, they are safe. They are free to cry, and scream, and tremble in my arms, because I am bigger than them, and I can take it. “Pour it all out on to Mamma babies. You are going to be okay.”
Tonight, as I sunk in to my Heavenly Father’s arms, I was reminded that while I don’t know the answers to a lot of things going on right now, I do know Him. I know His character. I know His Fatherly heart He has towards me. And in that moment, I was reminded that I am the child, and I am free to cry, scream, and tremble in my Father’s arms because He is bigger than I am, and He can take it. Oh can He take it.
What He did for me tonight, I have no doubt that He is doing for billions of His precious little beings scattered all across the globe that are scared, hurt, and so desperately seeking the refuge of their Father’s arms.
I don’t know what I would do without Jesus. I really don’t. If it weren’t for His arms surrounding me, the recent groanings of the globe would be enough to convince me to set up my tent in Despair’s campground.
But I won’t.
Just like the aftermath of the tight squeeze and reassurance I give my kiddos in their times of fear, what His embrace did for me tonight was reset me. Regrouped my thoughts. Set me back on my feet and reminded me that while the world can be scary some times, it can also be oh so beautiful. And He has allowed me to choose whether or not I’m going to add to that beauty or take away from it.
I choose to add to it.
I add to it by realizing that while I can’t help the millions, I can help the one, and that is just as important.
I add to it by being kind. Not just nice, but kind. Choosing to see the God-given dignity and value in every human being, and speaking to it.
I add to it by raising these tiny humans that have been entrusted to me to love humanity fiercely, and to love their God even more than that. Because there are going to be moments when Mommy’s arms aren’t enough anymore, but His always will be.
MAMMA ARIANNA 