This Little Light of Mine...

A few days ago, something happened made me take a minute to stand still. I was forced to sit and think about what it means to have faith, what kind of world I really live in, and whether any of us are ever truly safe. I had to face, not for the first time in my life, the fact that evil really exists and needs to be battled. As an individual, I was horrified, angered, disgusted, saddened, and moved in a way I haven't been in a very long time. And as a member of this society and this nation, I had to assess myself and understand that until we face the true issues and reasons why things like this happen, we'll never make a bit of difference. And that is simply unacceptable. 

I don't know anyone from Newton, Connecticut. I don't know anyone who was directly involved in the situation, but every time I turned on the television I was moved to tears and my heart broke over and over again. I will not pretend to know what it feels like to lose a child. I don't know what it's like to be a parent. But I am a friend, and I know what it feels like to lose someone you love to a horrendous and senseless act of violence. I know what it does to you and the road it takes you down over and over again, and on December 14th, I was reminded of that place. I was reminded of the destination I ended up after I lost Shelley and I remember just sitting there and saying, "I don't know what to do." And it took me months to figure out there there wasn't anything I really could do except keep breathing while I still had breath. 

How do you convince a 7 year old that they are safe at school after they just saw their classmates shot and killed? Children all over America lost a little bit of that magical spark of innocence as the news of this tragedy spent and parents all over America were horrified by the fact that their kids might not really be safe anywhere. The question I've heard over and over on the news is, "How do we show the kids that they're safe? How do we make them feel safe?" 

The long and short of it is...you can't. Not without lying to them. You can't tell a 7 year old, "Well honey, I can't tell you that you'll be safe. I can't tell you that you can go see a movie without getting shot. I can't tell you that you can go to your elementary school and nothing bad will happen. I can't say that someday you'll go to college and no one will open fire in your classroom. I can't guarantee you that someday, someone won't break into your apartment and kill you in your sleep." No, you can't tell a 7 year old that. You have to make them feel comfortable, convince them that everything will be alright. These harsh realities are burdens that us adults should bear alone. Should being the operative word here.  

Things like this shouldn't happen. They just shouldn't and it pisses me off that they do. But the stone cold truth is that it does happen and it will continue to happen no matter how many precautions we take. Go ahead and take away the guns. People will find other ways to kill if they want. Tighten security at the schools. People will find other places to kill if they want. We live in a fallen world and evil isn't something that we can shut our eyes to and pretend it isn't there. The killing of 27 women and children and the death of a possibly deranged and broken  20 year old is proof of this. It would be easy to sit here with righteous anger and wish that young and broken man to burn in hell for the horrendous thing that he did...but wouldn't that just make us part of the problem? 

One of the victims was named Emilie Parker. She was a beautiful little blue eyed six year old girl with her whole life ahead of her. Her father spoke to the media to honor his little girl and tell the world how much this baby was loved and loved in return. He then said something I will never, ever forget. He expressed his condolences to the family of the shooter, understanding that they were going through a nightmare as well. He said that he wasn't angry. Of all people, this man had every right to curse the very name of the gunman and has every reason to hate him for eternity. But Robbie Parker gets it. 

The shooters reasons don't matter. They truly don't, I agree with that. I don't care why he did what he did, I just know that he did it. I don't know anything about this guy. I don't know if he was picked on as a kid and felt like nobody loved him, or if he was abused. I don't know if he was seriously ill and his family and friends failed to encourage him to seek help. I have no idea what the circumstances of this kids life was. The only thing I know is that guy must have been filled with a kind of hate that is absolutely unimaginable to me. I cannot fathom killing my own mother, going to an elementary school and killing 20 babies and 6 women, and then turning the gun on myself. I'm not the type to jump on the "demon possessed" bandwagon...but...I fully believe this kid fought a spiritual battle and lost.

I don't think stricter gun laws are going to keep me safe. It couldn't hurt, but I'm being realistic. I also don't think stricter laws about how to handle the mentally ill is going to make me any safer either. Also couldn't hurt, but seriously. I think there is only one thing that we as a society and a nation can do that will make any dent on keep tragedies like this from happening again: change ourselves. 

Where there is God, there is hope. I know when things like this happen, it seems like we live in a time where depravity reigns king, but that's just the devil jabbering in your eye and dancing before your eyes. This was not of God. God is the abundance of joy. He is everything good. And He is my King. So maybe instead of just talking about Jesus, it's time to start acting like Him. Sure, we're human and we're flawed, but at the heart of us I still believe that we can be creatures of great beauty. God didn't put me on earth to be meek and to turn my back on my fellow man. He didn't put me here to let myself be filled with hate and be desensitized. God gave us, as His people, the ability to change. 

And it starts one person at a time. I've held in a lot of hurt and anger over the past three years. Not hating someone who took away someone you love is easier said than done, take it from someone who knows. But since what happened on Friday, I've found myself praying for the man who took Shelley away for the first time. I pray that he finds God and that God opens his eyes and lets him understand what he did. I hope he'll find the strength to be a man and admit what he did and possibly give us some answers. And finally, I pray that somehow, some way, God will help me forgive him because I need to. Forgiveness isn't for him, it's for me. It's to take a burden off my heart, not his. He will gain nothing by my forgiveness. He'll still be sitting in his cell remembering what he did, hopefully for the rest of his life. But I can't be apart of the change I want to see in the world if I am unwilling to take that step myself.

All in all, I don't really have any answers. Sometimes I still think about Shelley, and I still say, "I don't know what to do." I don't have any words that is going to make anyone feel safe. But I can give you this piece of advice: don't worry so much about the fact that you aren't safe, and don't be afraid. Fear isn't going to do you any good and you can't wear it like a bulletproof vest. Death is the great neutral party and the great equalizer. You can't hide from it, so there isn't any use in being afraid that it might steal you away in the night. But what you can do is live your life in a way that when your time does come around, you can look back and say, "Yeah, I can live with that." Teach your children to love, not hate. Be up-lifters, not bullies. And as they grow and start to realize that safety is a myth, tell them that there are worse things in life than not being safe. There are worst things than dying. Why spend your whole life living in fear and being a stain on the world when you could help paint a mural that proves that humanity isn't completely hopeless? I know the world seems like a scary place, but don't let yourselves be blinded to the wonders of it all. To the wonders of life. 

I'm only 24 and I'm not exactly anyone special. I am flawed and fully faulted, but I can at least say to some degree of surety that I am not a blight on humanity. I refuse to be a part of the problem, so I have no choice but to be a part of the cure. Please, be a beacon of light in a world that seems a little darker now. Instead of wearing armor made of hatred and fear, wear armor of hope and faith. This is how you save lives. This is how you make the world a safer and better place. Help the children of this world understand what "This Little Light of Mine," is really about.

Maybe there is an answer. A very simple yet incredibly far reaching answer. Love. 

Alison