I sat here yesterday and watched Dina Thompson in a news conference doing what every mother in her position would do: PLEAD for whoever took her child to return the child safely. Somer, seven years old, was last seen walking home from school with a group of schoolmates and siblings before she disappeared. Last night, her dead body was found in a Georgia landfill. As a parent, that has to be our worst fear, our child dying. Or is it?
The article states:"The cause of death hasn't yet been released, but the Georgia Bureau of Investigation planned an autopsy Thursday in Savannah.
"We hope to learn the cause and manner of the death that will assist us in the criminal investigation we are actively undertaking at this time," Beseler said. "The early discovery will be tremendously helpful in this investigation to help find the person or people responsible for the death of this beautiful child."
"He wouldn't talk about what evidence police have recovered, or whether investigators believe the crime was committed by one or more people.
He said police have questioned more than 70 registered sex offenders in the area, and that process was continuing."
I think about that last line.
I go to Family WatchDog.us, which is the National Sex Offender registry, and I find: there are 180 sex offenders in my zip code. From the looks of the map, 90% are offenses against children. There are two within a mile of my house.
Then I consider- what really is my worst fear?
If one of my children were murdered, would I want to know HOW they were murdered? What kind of abuse they endured before they took their last breath? The things they saw before it all ended? The things that autopsy will reveal?
It was enough to learn Jordan suffocated to death. He did not die of SIDS, peacefully in his sleep. His trachea folded and his neck muscles were too weak for him to be able to lift his head, to straighten his neck and trachea to allow life giving air to flow to his lungs. (He head wasn't slumped over, either, only turned slightly.) It He was an infant. That is hard enough, but to be a seven year old kidnapped little girl. Hannah is seven. She has experienced joy, laughter, sadness, fear, friendship, gladness, trust, compassion. She come in the living room last night with a sad, concerned look on her face: "Mommy, there was a mommy on TV just now crying because she lost her little girl.", bottom lip pooching. I know what she saw- she saw a replay of Dina's pleads from earlier in the day. I said "I know", and she walked back into the bedroom to change the channel to her shows.
I would NOT want to know. The only thing that would matter for me at this point, if I was Dina Thompson, is to try and rest in the knowledge that Hannah has accepted Christ as her own Savior, and that Jesus was with her each and every second before He carried her home.