Texas Floods

Has your mind and heart been completely consumed by what has happened at that Christian camp in central Texas? Mine has. In fact, it's keeping me awake at night and invading my thoughts throughout the day. And I don't even know any of those children or their families. Yet, the humanity in all of us has caused national mourning over such an unimaginable loss.
So much has been written from a religious point of view. I've read some deeply profound messages from pastors and others. But I want to share a story that some of you have already heard, and it helps me to process such tragedies in a way that gives me hope.
I believe that hope is the turning point to any story. Once hope enters into the equation, managing one's feelings and dealing with the pain of loss becomes somewhat more bearable.
When my son, Gabe, was in cancer treatment at St. Jude in 2011, he nearly died twice. The first time we almost lost him because he went into septic shock due to an infection in his central line. His blood pressure went down to 29/15. I didn't even know that a human being could survive with a blood pressure that low. I just stood by in horror as I witnessed that traumatic event.
The following morning, I asked Gabe if he knew he was dying the night before. He said, "Yes, I did. I could feel my spirit being tugged out of my body and I can't explain what that felt like, but I know that is what was happening." I said, "Were you afraid?" And what he said next forever changed the way I look at the death of a believer in Christ. He answered me and said, "You know Mom, it takes a certain amount of energy to have the emotion of fear. I didn't have any energy, so I didn't have any fear. But what I learned in that moment was that it didn't take any energy to have hope, and I always had hope."
What the Lord taught me that day is that when a believer crosses over to the other side, they do so without fear and with hope.
Thinking about those little children being swept down that river is tormenting to me and to most of us. Our minds cannot help but go to the place of "what if this were my child or grandchild." But those sweet babies belonged to the Lord, and they were at this camp to learn about Him. When they left this earth, they did so without fear and with hope in their little hearts.
I don't know why this happened or why God allowed it to happen, but I do know the nature of God and I know that He loved those children and I know beyond a shadow of a doubt that in those last moments, God ministered to them in ways that they could not fully express if they were here to do so.
Hope was the turning point of their story and hope ushered them into their heavenly home. This is how I'm coping with this unthinkable tragedy.
"We have this hope as an anchor for the soul, firm and secure." Hebrews 6:19