Saturday night after the kids were in bed, Dave and I looked at each other and said, “I felt really absent today,” and “I just couldn’t focus on anything; why?” It wasn’t until that moment that I realize we were experiencing shock from the tragic shootings that rocked Paris the night before. We had spent the day indoors, I check my phone for news updates constantly and closed the curtains early that night.
The next morning we went to church. There were two dads and their young sons from our church that had been at the soccer match on Friday night when the suicide bombers bombed the stadium. Our friends from church were unharmed and were even unaware of the magnitude of what had happened until the next morning. Seeing their calm reassured me. And the fresh reminder of God’s grace on their lives helped me take a step out of the daze. Later Sunday afternoon, we went to the little zoo that’s in town thanks to the circus. Does that seem irreverent? It was good to be there with neighbors and process through how we were all doing. It’s this crazy in-between of feeling the pain of the depth of evil and still living day-to-day life.

Monday morning Dave took off to teach a seminar in Malta while I stayed behind with the kids. I kept our little girl home from preschool that day because I didn’t like the thought of our family being so spread out all at once. Tuesday, however, I was ready to take another step out of the daze. Lexie was happy to go back to school and her little friend was relieved to have her buddy back at recess. It was also Tuesday when I looked at a list of some of the victims and it sunk in deeper that these people were real folks just going out for a good time. As my in-laws would say, “It’s Friday night in Paris!” One of the victims was the owner of a restaurant I ate in the Friday night before (she was out celebrating her birthday at another restaurant in the neighborhood when she lost her life).
The yo-yo of emotions continued today when I skipped with joy when Dave pulled up in front of our apartment building, “He’s home!” Shortly thereafter, the French police raided a building in a suburb just north of Paris in an attempt to catch the mastermind behind Friday’s terrorist attacks. Ahh…
Each person is on their own journey in coming out of the daze and figuring out what life looks like now. As I talk to people I need to be careful to not compare myself to where they’re at in the process. One of my friends does a beautiful job articulating her hope in God as she faces the future. Another friend has decided to stop going to the theater and not go the the shopping mall by her apartment out of fear. One nanny I talked to at the park went the day after the shootings to the neighborhood where they happened; while another nanny found the idea horrific. And me; where am I at in the process? I’m waiting on God to give me “that word” or thought to help push my soul farther out of the daze. I have a deep, roaring conviction that He is in control and that He is good. So, maybe it is more so the depth of evil that I’m still grappling with… I’m not sure. This is where I’m at in the journey. How about you?
Love this. It’s great that you’re sharing where you’re at. I was talking to Sandra today (I’m mentoring her this year) and it’s helpful for me to hear another person’s perspective
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I think of being in France, standing in line at my neighborhood Carrefour, or in a metro packed with people, feeling a heavy, sad, anxious atmosphere. I would wish that I could walk around with a billboard that says, “Hope in God.” Or, “Heaven is for real!” That’s what would drive me nuts: seeing people, wondering how they’re doing, wanting to listen and to talk, wanting to point them toward hope, but not being able to. May the Lord bless your witness in ways you can’t even imagine, Heidi and Dave!
Praying for you.
THanks for this post. I’m very curious to know who the “average” person is responding and if the country is embracing with courage the reality that they are at war. I see the CGT union is going to protest stupid stuff on Dec2. Makes me sick.
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