07/08/2025
This says best what so many of us have been thinking these last few days. I can only imagine what those mothers (and fathers, and others) are going through, especially the ones who don’t know yet. Let’s continue to pray for them, for peace, for healing, and for those who don’t know yet, that they might at least have the mercy of finding out what happened to their babies.
The moment we heard about Camp Mystic, our mama hearts began to race — and break — all at once.
There is a sacred, unspeakable terror unfolding for those moms who still do not know if their daughters are dead or alive. And for some, the knowing has come, and it is a knowing no mother should ever have to bear.
We hold them close in our hearts — these mothers whose worst fears have crashed into reality. We honor the ache, the waiting, the agony. We stand in holy witness to the fragility of a love that can’t protect them now.
And as we sit here, our own trembling mama hearts can’t help but ache in echo. Because we know what it is to drop our children off — at camp, at school, at a new job, in another city — and trust the world to keep them safe. We know the secret prayers we whisper as we drive away. We know the quiet dread that lurks in the shadows of our deepest love: Please, please, let them come home.
To the mothers at Camp Mystic, may you feel the love of strangers who grieve with you. May you be surrounded by hands that hold you up when you can’t stand.
And may we, the rest of us, hold our children a little closer — not in fear alone, but in deep gratitude for every single breath we get to share.
