One outcome of loss: it does, eventually, create in one a sense of solidarity with others who have experienced something similar.
I'm not much for praying for specific outcomes ~ but I do pray for healing, whatever that might mean.
And so I pray with the mothers.
The mothers whose children are dying, or have died.
The mothers whose children are starving.
The mothers whose children are refugees.
The mothers whose children are immigrants.
The mothers whose children will soon be motherless.
The mothers whose children are soldiers.
The mothers whose children are victims of terrorists.
The mothers whose children are terrorists.
The mothers whose children walk out into a dangerous world every day.
The mothers whose children are being raised by other mothers.
The mothers who leave abusive relationships with their precious children and little else.
The mothers whose child-daughters are forced into early marriages.
I support, in a very small way, an organization called ASCEND, which is helping a small group of young Afghan women climb mountains. I pray with their mothers, who are watching their daughters take steps that may be dangerous in many ways beyond the physical.
I live in a world in which most mothers worry about which pre-school or which soccer team, which wedding caterer or which dress. Because of my son's death and thanks to the internet, I know many mothers who have lost children ~ but not among my daily life friends. But also because of our loss, I have a much better understanding than I did of what motherhood is for perhaps the majority of mothers in this world.
I don't go into this kind of detail often. But at least once every day, I simply pray: