Our fall favorites are here! 🍂

I woke up this morning and checked facebook, just the same as any other morning. The first thing on my newsfeed hinted at a tragedy- a shooting of some kind. My heart sunk. Not again. How do people do this? The world is so broken.

And then I notice the hashtag. #Vegas.

Las Vegas. My hometown. Where I lived out my entire childhood. Where I learned how to walk and read and ride a bike. My parents are there. Are they safe? My sister is there. How is she doing? I quickly find more details about the incident. It was on the strip, after a country concert. My family never told me they were going out last night, and that doesn’t seem like their type of event. I hoped and prayed that they were safe in their beds.

Las Vegas. Where I went to middle school. Where I learned algebra and history and the Spanish that I can never remember. Where I sat in school cafeterias year after year after year. Where I learned to drive. Where I graduated high school. Two thousand people went to my high school, and many of them are still there. Are they okay? Were they on the strip? Facebook tells me 110 friends haven’t marked whether they are safe or not. *Gulp* What’s happening with them? Some of them could have easily been at that concert.

I continue scrolling through my newsfeed.

“Thank goodness we left the event early. Praying for everyone…” one status reads.

“Just got home after being on lockdown at the Luxor,” another friend states.

“STILL on lockdown at Mandalay Bay. Safe but scared.”

Wow. This is really happening. This incident hit home in a very real way. My family was only minutes away and some of my friends were actually there.

Tragedy feels different when it hits so close to home.

My body feels paralyzed with fear and heartache. I know I need to get out of bed, but I don’t see how I can. This cuts too deeply.

It reminds me of something. I’ve felt this gut-wrenching, sick-to-my-stomach, can’t-get-out-of-bed feeling before. It was the last time when tragedy hit home.

Last year, my husband was diagnosed with cancer. While this event didn’t make the news, it was still a tragedy. And it affected MY family. Much like some of the Vegas shooting victims, my husband’s life was in danger, and he needed immediate medical attention. He needed doctors. He needed blood transfusions. He needed life-saving medical interventions. And he needed prayers.

Before his diagnosis, I knew that cancer was happening around the world. Before the Las Vegas shooting, I knew that acts of violence happened in other places. Hearing about previous attacks made me sick. Reading about illness and death made my heart ache. But until these things threatened MY home, it felt just a little bit easier.

Now that the tragedy is banging on MY back door, I feel more scared. I feel angrier. I feel more devastated. I know that I should feel these things no matter where the suffering is happening, and on some level, I did. But I couldn’t quite wrap my head around the reality. These things were happening to “other people.” But now they are happening to MY people, and that hurts on a deeper level.

But it also makes me more eager to do something. It makes me anxious to help. It makes me realize that no matter where tragedy hits, it’s home for somebody. I’m more aware of the hurt in the world, and I want to make it stop. Yet I know the suffering will go on. But maybe, just maybe, I can make some small impact on our hurting world. Maybe I can bring joy to someone who is having a bad day. Maybe I can donate blood, food, or toiletries to someone in need. Maybe I can give money or time to a charitable cause. Maybe I can be a good neighbor and friend. Maybe I can visit the sick or the lonely.

When tragedy hits home, it really hurts. It’s a tougher pill to swallow, and it elicits more emotion. It’s normal to be upset when the devastation affects your friends, family, or hometown. But we should use those emotions to create something positive in the world. Make your neighborhood just a little bit brighter. Make your family just a little bit happier. Combat the evil with good.

Be the good in the world that it’s so hard to see.

_____________

My heart and prayers go out to everyone in Vegas. Please keep marking yourselves safe, and let us know how you are doing. Love you, friends!

So God Made a Mother book by Leslie Means

If you liked this, you'll love our new book, SO GOD MADE A MOTHER available now!

Order Now

Julieann Selden

Julieann Selden is a chemistry graduate student and non-profit volunteer. Her husband, Ken, is recently in remission from sarcoma cancer. On her blog, contemplatingcancer.com, she examines the thoughts and emotions of life through the lens of an aggressive cancer diagnosis.

To the Parents Facing a Child’s Illness: You Are Strong

In: Grief, Kids, Motherhood
Toddler with cast and IV looking out window

If you are the parents who just sat for hours in a cold doctor’s office to hear that your child has a life-threatening illness, you are so strong.  If you are the parents who can’t bring yourself to decorate or celebrate the unknown because you don’t know if they’ll ever come home, you are so strong.  If you are the parents who travel or relocate to deliver your child in one of the best hospitals with hopes it will change the outcome, you are so strong. If you are the parents who learn all the medical terminology so you understand...

Keep Reading

My Sister Was Killed by a Drunk Driver and Her Loss Left a Gaping Hole

In: Grief, Loss
Woman kneeling at grave

Dark clouds hang over my hometown. I am reminded of my mother’s death many years ago. I lived in foster care without knowing my bloodline. It felt like the end. I longed for family closeness. After researching my ancestry, I discovered that my father has many children. My younger sister, Marva, was a remarkable woman. Despite being a single mother, she was kind, strong, and hardworking. Her compassionate heart touched countless people. We share an unbreakable bond. During our last walk together, an unexpected vehicle drove close to us. My sister quickly grabbed my arm. Protectively, she pulled me close...

Keep Reading

What Happens When Your Perfect Life Explodes?

In: Grief, Living, Loss, Marriage, Motherhood
Sad woman by window with her head in hands

One day you’re living your best life, writing articles about how perfect your marriage is, and the next, BOOM, life as you know it completely changes. I was blindsided by information that my husband had been lying to me for three years about certain aspects of our lives. I felt like I had been hit in the gut by the biggest rock you could imagine. What has followed has been a snowball of events and new information that has changed the course of my and my kids’ lives. So what do you do when your perfect explodes? This is one...

Keep Reading

Sweet Baby, I Wish I Could Have Met You

In: Baby, Grief, Loss, Motherhood
Toddler standing at table with lit candles, color photo

Miscarriage. It floods my head with devastating memories. It seems like it happened so long ago, yet I can still feel the roller coaster of emotions I was taken on. My husband and I were ready to start a family, and I was fortunate enough to get pregnant right away. Holding that pregnancy test with my hands shaking and voice trembling, I was scared and excited.  I was ready to be a mom. Even though seeing those two lines so quickly left me shocked, I was ready to meet my baby. When I found out there was a little human growing...

Keep Reading

Just For a Moment, I Thought I Saw You Again

In: Grief, Loss
Woman walking down autumn path

I was on my way to the dollar store as they were opening, still flush with excitement that I had made a condo reservation the night before. We moved just a few months ago, and John and I had kind of been tiptoeing around the notion of our yearly early autumn/my birthday week on the white sands of Pensacola Beach, not at all sure of it being a possibility this year. The early morning excursion to the dollar store was to purchase the symbolic “vacation salt and pepper shakers” duo that we have taken along with us every year for...

Keep Reading

I Lost a Baby and My Heart Will Always Hurt

In: Grief, Loss
Woman walking down autumn path, black and white image

I love having a TV show to watch. I get home from work and need 20-30 minutes to myself. It’s a reprieve from the day. A way to reset my mind. I love to sit at night when everyone is cleaning up or taking showers and watch something. I usually have my typical round of repeats. Gilmore Girls, Madam Secretary, White Collar, Covert Affairs, etc.  Recently I finished a time travel drama and was at a loss for what to watch next. I rarely watch new shows as I don’t really find anything that fits my just chill, don’t want to...

Keep Reading

Dad Left a Legacy in Fried Green Tomatoes

In: Grief, Living
Two women eating, color photo

When I was growing up, my dad’s Kentucky roots were very evident in our kitchen, especially the summertime meals he prepared. I can still see him at the stove preparing those Southern specialties: a mess of green beans and ham, corn fried in a skillet, fried okra, hot stuff (a mixture of tomatoes, onion, and hot peppers), fried round steak and gravy, and fried green tomatoes. While preparing the dishes, he would often cut the end of a hot pepper and coax us to stick our tongues on the end. “It’s not that hot.” It always was, and we fell...

Keep Reading

Watching My Mom Lose Her Best Friend Is Hard

In: Grief, Grown Children, Loss
Two women walking, color photo

Today, my mom lost one of her best friends. Today the news came. Suddenly. Unexpectedly. Traumatically. Ripping a hole in the heart of her world and the world of all who knew and loved her. Today I realized so many things. Things I already know but always lose sight of. Things like, nothing is ever guaranteed. Things like, you never know when it will be your last text . . . your last hug . . . your last power walk . . . your last everything with a person who is so deeply connected to your heart and soul...

Keep Reading

Some Days I Still Just Want My Daddy

In: Grief, Loss
Two grown women with their father, color photo

“I want my daddy,” with tears falling down my cheeks I uttered these words.  “I want my daddy,” as a grown 40-something these words ever so gently escaped my lips. And I couldn’t shake it . . . I tried. I curled into a ball on the bed and cried with those words revolving in my mind. I want my daddy. I want my daddy. It was the first time in almost six years after my dad’s death that I felt such an urgent need for him to be here in the flesh. Like I wanted to sit face-to-face with him,...

Keep Reading

Make Every Day a Celebration of Life

In: Grief, Living, Loss
Couple running on the beach

I have been invited to four celebrations of life in the last four months. Each one of these lives, from my earthly perspective, was taken too soon. Two of them were young men under the age of 20, and I can’t even begin to wrap my brain around the degree of pain and suffering their loved ones are experiencing. Each time I sit at one of these events and listen to the beautiful story of their lives being told, I always find myself begging the question: Why are we waiting until these people, whom we love at the deepest depths...

Keep Reading