As I sit to write my heart is heavy as I fight the tears burning behind my eyes. You see, while I slumbered in blissful naivety last night, our eldest son paced the yard sobbing, waiting for my husband to return from work. I found out this morning that after our youngest son and I had gone to bed, a coyote jumped our wall and attacked our beagle. Our eldest was right inside the house when he heard our dogs barking (quite the regular occurrence with three dogs) and went outside to quiet them so they wouldn’t wake me. As he stepped through the French doors and called for the dogs he saw an animal jump over our high wall. Our two labs were pacing the yard and when my poor son went to investigate he found the mangled body of our silly, head strong, food motivated, cuddle-buddy beagle.

It breaks my heart to think of how my wordsmith son with an English degree couldn’t form words to express his grief

As a strapping 6’4 young adult with a strong sense of responsibility and highly developed attitude of protectiveness, our boy walked vigil, keeping the beasts away and trying to resolve himself to properly handle the torn remains of our pet. My husband said that the first thing he saw when he drove onto our property was the ashen face of our son moving toward his car, shocked and repeating, “something bad happened.” It breaks my heart to think of how my wordsmith son with an English degree couldn’t form words to express his grief, yet I empathize completely as I process my own sorrow today.

My prayers this morning have often been, as the Apostle Paul wrote to the believers living in Rome, wordless groans born of my weakness, desperate for the Spirit to intercede (ref. Romans 8:26-27). Mingled among my prayers for comfort, I seek wisdom and discernment on when and how to tell my other two boys about this violent death. One has a volleyball match that he will need to bring his A-game to this afternoon and the other is studying for his college finals mere weeks away. Weighing the pros and cons of when and how to tell them, wondering if risking performance is better than risking hurt feelings for being kept in the dark, I can only lay this at the cross. And yet, interspersed throughout the stream of tearful pleas are prayers of thanksgiving. I can’t help but thank God for entrusting me to parent a son who is not ashamed to weep openly over a little dog. Or for a husband who sat up with him until 3:00 am just to help him process exactly how traumatizing it was for him while choosing to let me sleep. And peppered into the prayers for discernment on when and how to tell the other two, how can I keep from praising God for boys who would lose focus and possibly fail in their respective endeavors because they held a deep love for one of God’s creations? Or for family, friends and coworkers who understand that we are “pet people” and offer words of comfort and empathy that only other “pet people” fully understand.

I thank God for His timing as I just taught a lesson for our preteen life groups on the power of prayer last night so His Word is fresh and alive for me to grab onto today. I could go on and on, yet even as I write this, though the grief is still heavy, the weight is lifted because I know that through God’s amazing grace my boys all have the gift of faith. That faith will anchor them and allow them to cry out to the only One who can wipe away their tears. My job in these days and weeks ahead will be to help point them back to the source of all loving comfort, Jesus Christ. Modeling my own dependence is a good thing, and my fragile heart is certainly dependent on Jesus.

I’m also praying for you, dear families, as you guide your children in building a firm foundation by helping them hear the Word of God and put it into practice. This storm in my family reminds me today of why I feel such an urgency for ministry. It hurts to be buffeted by storms, but Jesus Himself promises those rooted in Him will not fail.

In closing, here are a few stanzas from the old hymn “All Things Bright and Beautiful” by Cecil Frances Alexander that have been woven into my thoughts today:

“All things bright and beautiful,
All creatures great and small,
All things wise and wonderful,
The Lord God made them all.

He gave us eyes to see them,
And lips that we might tell,
How great is God Almighty,
Who has made all things well.”

Frisky waiting for dinner time

Frisky's favorite position ~ cuddled up on a lap

Lara Kaufman
Director of Children's Ministry