She's bleeding! He's bleeding! Quick!
An exclamation that tends to demand the immediate attention of most parents/grandparents/caregivers. We rush to the scene, examine our babies—no matter the age—assess the damage, determine a course of treatment, and hopefully, filled with thanksgiving, proceed down the road of healing.
We don't ignore such a call. We don't look the other way. We don't gaze at our cell phones and scroll through Facebook or stare enviously at Instagram while our children are hurting.
We stop. We look. We listen. We act.
Hear my heart.
Y'all, our babies—our children—our teenagers—are bleeding out.
Physically, emotionally, socially, spiritually, mentally--
Desperately crying for help, screaming in pain for someone—anyone—to hear them.
Often, an echo reaches our ears, and we fumble to act. With the best of intentions. Responsibly. Proactively. Of course, we do. As a society, we pull out our box of band-aids—different shapes and sizes—and attempt to patch a wound that requires intensive examination, surgery, and weeks, months, years of healing.
HELP US TO WAKE UP!
I lay beside my husband this morning and watched the footage of the latest school shooting. I listened, in horror, as a child was interviewed, confessing her best friend had died beside her while she was grazed by a bullet. What was she doing at the time of the attack? Writing a paper about the horrors of the holocaust.
My eyes filled with tears, as did my husband's because all we could see were the faces of our children. Same age group. One was already on the school grounds of the local high school, the other on her way.
Would this morning be the morning when we kissed their faces for the last time? The horror of the thought makes my heartbeat quadruple as I attempt to comprehend the pain of those parents standing outside of the school hours from our home frantically fighting the crowds and checking their phones for messages—some for a message that would never be sent.
I just can't imagine. Yet, a part of me can--
I taught middle and high school for over a decade. I've been a part of lockdowns. I've waited for a code word to be spoken over the loudspeaker. I've gathered twenty-five sixteen-year-olds in the corner of a room, trying to contemplate where they would be the safest—where their persons would not be a target. I sat and helplessly looked into the eyes of my juniors and seniors as the horror of Columbine played out on a stage of absolute shock.
This world has changed.
Our children have been drafted and are on the front lines every. single. day.
What can we do?
Pay attention. Talk to them. Have conversations. Check social media. Don't look the other way. Beyond our children, listen to those children who don't have someone to come running when they are hurting. Be an advocate for those whose screams are silent.
I don't know the answers. However, I've worked with teenagers my entire adult life. Twenty-two years of listening to their concerns, hearing their dreams, crying alongside them as they pound on a wall out of frustration. I've had kids with behavior disorders throw desks inside the walls of my classroom and show me tangible evidence of the pain from which they suffer.
Please. Don't focus your energy on attempting to open a box of band-aids.
With both palms, hold the face of your child and the child beside them. Look into their eyes and volunteer to stand by their side on the front lines of their reality. See them. Listen to them. And hand in hand walk down a road to healing.
*While I was typing this blog, I received a mass message from the principal of our son's high school notifying all parents they put the school on code yellow because of a rumor that had circulated around the halls. The warning has been lifted. Thank God, the kids are safe. But those words drove the truth further into my heart—this is real.
Amanda Williams is a forty-year old wife and mother of two who can still swing her pony tail and display just a tad of sass. She is also a Jesus loving girl who realizes she is nothing without the One who saved her. Amanda has two degrees specializing in serving students with special needs and is currently working in the field of Leadership Development. She is a Christian author, speaker, blogger, and publisher who loves serving beside her husband at her local place of worship, First Baptist Church of Ocala.