There are no words...

My heart is grieving.  A little girl, who I never knew, is gone.  She is with God now, and there are no words.

I don't personally know this family from Grand Saline, but I know she was 9-years-old and would have been entering 4th grade with Austin.  Through this tragedy I am quickly reminded of one reason I love small towns.  The way everyone comes together in support, in grief, in love, in heartache is a beautiful sight.  Yes, the same happens in large communities, as well, but I think it's a little less obvious unless you are directly connected in some way.

I do not mean for this to be a "bash" toward larger communities.  As all of my close friends and family know, I have absolutely loved living in League City.  But there's an endearing togetherness in a small town that is hard to explain unless you've actually lived it.

I'm reminded of the movie Steel Magnolias.  My best friend in high school, Cristal, and I would watch this movie over and over again, laughing and crying all at the same time.  Every 90's girl knows what I'm talking about.  It's a timeless movie that, to me, sums up small town characters and attitudes perfectly.  When tragedy strikes, the town stops and everyone comes together.  It doesn't matter that there are bills to pay and businesses to run.  Life stops for just a moment in honor and grace, because we're all in this together.

Another reminder from this movie is the burial scene at the end when M'Lynn is struggling to understand why:  "Oh, God, I wanna know why, why, why!  Lord, I wish I could understand!...It's not supposed to happen this way! I'm supposed to go first."  There are no words to comprehend losing a child.  As a mother I cannot imagine what these parents must be going through.  There are no words to make them understand or feel better.  There are no words to explain why this happened.  Even the words "she's in a better place" are not comforting at this moment for these grieving parents.  We want our children here on this Earth with us, every-single-day-of-our-living-life.

So, there are no words.

The only thing I know to do is pray, feverishly, for peace and comfort for all those involved.  I do not know you, but I know a God who knows you and loves you.  I know an amazing community who knows you and loves.  And I love you, too.

"Shelby, as you know, wouldn't want us to get mired down and wallow in this.  We should handle it the best way we know how and get on with it.  That's what my mind says, I just wish somebody would explain it to my heart."

Our heart usually wins this battle.

(I hope the family of this angel will forgive the liberties I took in writing this post. Through grief, I write.  I am praying for you daily.)