My Baby Cried for the Babies

This morning as the Pastor prayed for the families in CT, George dropped to his knees at his pew. I did, in fact, peek. I noticed his face laying on his crossed arms at first. Then he began wiping his eyes.
I know his heart breaks to hear of kids his age dying. He thinks of moms and dads without their babies and brothers without brothers. He's not heard all the details, but the sadness of death in itself burdens him.
Last night, he held on to my hand tighter telling me he's afraid of more dying. I prayed longer, hugged tighter, loved on him extra. Reassured as best his momma can.
We opened this event up to our boys for many reasons. For one, it would be extra hard to shield them from something of this magnitude. Another being, a teaching opportunity. They do live pretty sheltered from many world ways and events. And being still pretty young themselves, I'm fine with that. I'm thankful that we still can monitor, for the most part, what they are presented with.
I pray that, George, will always be sensitive for others and tender to gain souls for his Lord.