Helicopters

The sound of whirring blades has wafted into my house over the last few days, leaving me with a sad, sick heart. The news has been flooded with the stories of little Jenice who has been missing for days, and our airspace has been filled with helicopters. Border patrol and homeland security helicopters have been scouring the air, looking for any sign of the missing six-year-old cutie. Day and night they have been flying over, even hovering over our property as my girls and my niece and nephew were playing in the field, hoping for a sign of the lost little one. A community came together with hope and prayers that Jenice would be found safe and sound.

Sadly, the remains of a child were found today in the vicinity of where the girl went missing. And now a community mourns, even before official word that it's her. My heart is breaking, and the sadness for that little one is compounded by the fact that I can still hear helicopters. They are news helicopters this time, signaling a sensational story for them. 

If you think about it, helicopters rarely signify anything positive. Usually they are searching for something or someone that has been lost. Or they are the news, chasing down their next big story. Or it's airlift, coming to pick up a critical patient to take to Seattle. The helicopters of the last few days have been unnerving, especially as a mom of little girls that are around her age. 

Our one more thing mommy moment the past few days has been about helicopters. Why are they here? So I decided to take this opportunity to talk to them about stranger danger and what they should do if someone they don't know comes up. We talked about fighting back. And screaming. And that if someone was trying to take them or hurt them it was ok to hit a grown up. We talked about guns and  always telling an adult where you are going, even if it's just between neighbor's houses. And then tonight was different. Amelia wanted to know why there weren't helicopters. Where did they go? Is Jenice ok? So we talked about what happened. I told both girls she was found and that she was dead. That brought around questions too. Is she coming back? Is she with daddy? Why would someone kill her? Is someone going to kill me? We talked more about stranger danger. And we talked about even being safe in our own homes. And we cried together and we prayed together. For poor little Jenice. 

I will openly admit that I am judging her parents. I cannot imagine Amelia being missing for 24 hours before I worried and called the police. I wake up in the morning and wander through the house to check on everyone. Even if Sissy, our loyal pup, is not on her bed, my heart sinks a little and I start to search the house for her until I find her safe and sound. I can't imagine waiting a whole day before being worried if my kids were gone. I just don't understand, and maybe I shouldn't try. I am assuming the story will begin to unravel over the next few days and more light will be shed on the series of events that led to this tragic moment. So I will pray for her parents and have compassion on them for they lost a little daughter. 

On the other side of that judgement of the parents, comes judgement of society.  I wouldn't let that much time elapse before I was worried about my daughter, but why do we live with evil and why do we have to worry about the safety of our children? Why shouldn't my kids be able to wander among neighbors and family and friends and have the basic right of being safe? What has happened that we cannot trust strangers? Why do people feel the need to hurt or kill another human? I just don't understand. So I will pray for our community and for a society that just isn't safe anymore. 

There's a term that is used in relation to moms (or dads too) that hover over their children, restricting their ability to be independent. Ironically, they're called "helicopter moms". These are the moms that do everything for their kids, watch over them restrictively, don't allow them to bloom and grow on their own. And most of the time this phrase is used with a negative connotation. Teachers most often dread those helicopter moms.  There has to be a happy medium between the supervision that Jenise's family gave her, and the helicopter moms that smother their children. But I can guarantee that at least for a while, in the wake of the tragedy that happened just up the road from my home, that I am going to be a helicopter mom. I cannot imagine the pain that Jenice's mother is going through right now. And that's where my judgement fades because setting all judging aside, I am a mom. A mom of girls who are four and seven. A mom who sends her girls out the door to the neighbors without giving it another thought. And my heart shatters for Jenice's parents. You're not supposed to bury your kids and no matter the cause, no matter the actions of these parents, no matter the actions of the monster who hurt this precious baby, that's what these parents are doing. They are burying their six-year-old. And my soul gasps for them. 

So I urge you to pray! For our community. For those parents. For Jenice. For society. For your own families. Talk to your kids about stranger danger. And then hug them close. Now, excuse me while I go be a helicopter mom for a while.