How Social Media Helps Me Mourn With Those Who Mourn

#PrayForWest

Last night, Hubby and I went out for a late dinner, following a powerful worship service that included many prayers for the people of Boston. We got to the restaurant, ordered our drinks, and did what has become fairly customary for us: pulled out our smart phones. I perused Twitter while he looked at Facebook.

I'll note here that, generally, I'm not a fan of sitting and staring at a screen when sitting across the table from someone. But this screen time has helped us become kinda like the couple that sits and reads the morning paper together. We share the stories we are reading on our screens; we talk about things we see; we show each other pictures.

So, last night, pretty quickly, I began to see a number of tweets regarding the explosion in West. The number of tweets grew pretty quickly and became more urgent sounding each time I checked. Pictures started appearing, to the point where our dinner conversation surrounded the event that was unfolding just down I-35 to our south.

We got home, and found a news station that had the story on, and I returned to Twitter, adding Facebook to the mix. What I was seeing was staggering - the destruction, the flashing lights, the people - my God, the people! And I started to tweet what I was seeing, what I was feeling, the horror that was trying to overtake me again - and you know what? Others were doing the same thing.

Hubby fell asleep with the news still on. The news continued...and continued...and continued, and so I continued to post prayers, observations, and reactions on Twitter and Facebook, and others engaged those posts in various ways. 

What emerged for me was the sense that it wasn't just me, sitting there in our house, watching horror unfold in front of me while I faced it alone. What emerged for me was the sense that others were out there too - in some cases, on the other side of the world! - watching the same horror that I was, struggling to make some sense out of it, trying desperately to offer prayer and comfort, too. What emerged for me is something akin to the idea of mourning with those who mourn.

I have done this many, many times through social media. I have cried upon reading about someone's diagnosis or death. I have prayed with and for those who have just lost their job, or have had to put a pet to sleep, or who are struggling to care for an aging parent. I have wept - wept so very hard - in the face of some of the burdens we share with one another through social media. And, last night, I wept again, seeing more destruction, more pain, more shock, more horror. Again.

Don't get me wrong - there are plenty of joys that are shared, too - plenty of times when I have rejoiced with those who are rejoicing. I have celebrated with others about new jobs and new babies, new houses and new cars, newly-found freedom and newly-claimed strength. I have said prayers of thanksgiving for all these things, and more. And I have received many, many well-wishes and congratulations via social media in my own times of joy.

But at times like last night, facing horror yet again, I can honestly say that I am grateful for the connections I've made and maintained through social media. I am thankful we can inform one another. I am thankful we can pray for and with one another. I am thankful that I can mourn with those who mourn.