HOWEVER, this past weekend, an 18-year old girl, a senior at a local high school, was spending the night with relatives a couple miles from where she lived. At 3:45 AM, Sunday morning, someone drove by, or ran by, and shot at the side of the house. She was in her grandmother's [some say great-grandmother's] bed and the bullets hit her. She never woke up.
When I walked to that house, to the yard, almost immediately I talked to the teens - mostly cousins - and a couple of aunts. My arms were filled with them, my heart with their tears.
Two police officers were on the sidewalk. Three TV station workers had arrived to interview, to record the prayers and the instructions, to share the circumstances the family and friends were facing. [At 10:00 last evening this was on the news and I saw our dear ones.]
Many FR people arrived from all over town, and Tre'Veona's family and friends were there already. The yard was filled with people.
But, I, not the yard, but a caregiver, was also filled with people, and I was filled with sorrow as the teens slid into my arms for prayer and peace and encouragement.
During nearly an hour, all I felt were hearts. Usually, I'm mixed in with the FRs in a circle, praying about the circumstances for the family and neighborhood, and praying over family. This time, for some reason, I was not in the circle; I was on the outside. I was stepping towards the house where some of the hurting teens were. Somehow I was able to touch a few of them. And my heart was as seriously hurt as theirs at that moment.
A little later, while IN the FR group, and holding a boy [the one who earlier had said he'd seen her in heaven] who was sobbing on me, it was time to place a prayer shawl on Tre'veona's mom. This is one of my FR main joyous events. It was handed to me and I was able to help place it over her shoulders. A chair had been brought out of the house so she could sit, and after the shawl was in place, and several of us ladies were surrounding her, I knelt on the ground by her knees and laid my hands on hers. And while we prayed, I heard her say, "Jesus.... Jesus...". And, yes, she was teary, but, YES, she had her heart focused on our Lord.
Not long after, it was time for me to leave. And, yes, I could walk to my car, and, yes, I could drive home. But, NO, I could not empty my heart; it was frozen. I had lived only a few blocks away from this house about 30 years ago; my kids went to the elementary school that could be seen from this murder site. What a "heart hurter" for me as I drove past the school to get back on the main road.
When I reached home, I was still filled with the sorrow poured into me through the hearts of those who had been in grief, in anger.
Today, I needed to go grocery shopping. The store was not far from where they lived, so I decided this would be the time to go by and see if I could connect with anyone. AND it was daytime, not night, so I could get a better view.
I decided that, to bless and encourage them, I would bring some chicken. They had so many people coming in and out that they could use some.
I also wanted to take a photo of the house and the area where the bullets entered. I do this for my FR history file.
Only teens were there... I'm sure the family was where she had lived. I was appreciated for the chicken. [And I was given permission to take the house photos, which is a good thing.]
I hope I will be able to know that family over time, not leave them. [However, I tend to become side-tracked.] But I want to see the family whose hearts were so desirous for the Lord last evening. And I'd LOVE to see the prayer shawl in the light, the colors would be much more beautiful.
OH... and the only light that can break through this for them and for all of us, is the Light of our Lord.
I had written this post a couple hours earlier and pushed a post button ... normal one, so far as I understood ... and it all disappeared. I don't think this is as well written, but I don't want to put off having it poured into hearts that will reach out to bless these suffering dear ones.