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These last few weeks have been so difficult. Within 3 and a half weeks I lost my grandfather, developed mastitis, then got a stomach bug. Oh, and my daughter is teething. My house is so exhausted, and I think we all just need to sleep for a good 24 hours to fully recover.

I was thinking about how difficult this last month was when on December 14th, 26 families were having the worst day of their lives.

My problems became minuscule. I found myself heartbroken for them, and my problems disappeared. The only thing I could think of were the 26 lives that were lost at the hands of a troubled soul.

I immediately began to pray and cry for the parents who now have to bury their children. My struggles the last couple weeks, are nothing compared the pain of that. I begin to picture a mother waiting in her living room hoping that maybe her daughter fled the school and was taking refuge near by. I find myself praying again that God is putting his loving, and comforting arms around her. I then picture when the police come to her door and she falls to the ground in overwhelming sadness and disbelief.

I catch a glimpse at E while wiping tears from my face and she smiles and throws a little giggle my way. I'm praising God for her. I'm so thankful I'm her mom and I squeeze her tight. I decide that I no longer want to wallow in the sadness. Of course I'm still upset, but I have a sweet little girl in front of me. She is here, and I'm so blessed that she is. I'm going to take advantage of her smiles, hugs, and giggles every moment I can.