We are preparing for a major PARTY at our house! Lots of cleaning an chaos. In the midst of it all, I brought T. down to our room to have his nap and sat down to check facebook and blogs while I have a quiet moment. I read EXILE'S blog post earlier. It moved me. Shifted me. Shook me. Now, I just read THIS blog post. I felt like the ground had been pulled from under my feet. The foundation of the world moved, the earth groaning under the weight of this event. My heart started pounding and my legs became hot, the natural reactions, I later realized, of the body when in "flight or fight" mode. My body was naturally preparing to run. To run away from what I was reading! To run away from the horror before me. TO RUN! But I am human, and in that moment I had a choice between, well, "fight or flight". I chose fight. I chose to stay. I chose to read and have my eyes open so I can FIGHT for these children. To FIGHT for childhood that was robbed. To FIGHT for mental stability that was shattered. To FIGHT for God to intercede for these children. I read their horrific story...only "horrific" doesn't even begin to describe it. There are no words, simply no words, in the English language to describe it. I read their story and raised my heart in prayer to God. Pleading. Begging. For what, I didn't know for sure. For healing? For their lives to somehow to go back to how they were? For the fear and horror to stop? I didn't know WHAT to pray for...so, I prayed just for HIM! It is only through HIM that anything changing and positive can take place inside these traumatized, demoralized, horrified and petrified children. There is no way...NO. WAY. that anyone could come away from that, except through the blood of Christ. So, I prayed for Him. Because that is all I knew to pray for.