I wish I had all the answers, kiddo — but I’m doing my best to figure it out, too.
Just two weeks ago, I dropped my oldest off at sleepaway camp. I did what so many of us do — I trusted that everything would be fine. That the counselors would keep him safe, that the days would be filled with fun, and that he’d come home just a little braver, a little older. And he did. But now, I can’t stop thinking about the parents in Kerr County whose children didn’t come home. The weight of that grief sits heavy, even from afar. It’s a gut-wrenching reminder that no matter how tightly we hold them, there are forces beyond our control.
We’ve had a lot of difficult conversations in our house this past year, especially about death, grief, and how to love people through their hardest moments. And more often than not, I’ve found myself sitting beside my son, saying something like, “You know, I don’t have all the answers… and I might not ever. But I’d like to try to figure it out, too.”
READ: Look for the Helpers: How to Talk to Your Children About Big Events
As my boys grow older, I’m acutely aware of how fleeting their innocence is. I want to protect them from everything — the heartbreak, the uncertainty, the fear. But I also know that’s not life. Life is messy, and beautiful, and hard. And the truth is, I’m learning right alongside them. Sometimes I feel like I’m building the plane while flying it — trying to teach them how to navigate a world I’m still trying to understand myself. So I hold them close, pray even harder, and choose to be honest with them. Not perfect — just present. Always in it with them.
Click here for a few ways to help the families affected by the devastating flooding in Texas. Our hearts are with you.
