Jess: I promise we'll write something about the whole having-a-baby process at some point, but right now I think talking about Newtown is more important. Plus, we'll end up talking about James anyway.
These shootings have started to affect me more and more each time. I distinctly remember Columbine, when it seemed like the world was crashing down around us. School was no longer a safe place. It wasn't like school (I was in junior high at that point) was ever "fun" or "awesome" back then, but at least it was a place where we knew we would be okay. All of a sudden, that wasn't the case anymore. I don't remember being scared exactly, but I do remember being more aware of my surroundings, aware that life doesn't always go like you think. I remember crying for the students who died, listening to that Michael W. Smith song about Cassie, and the beginning of a new kind of drill--a lockdown. I would assess how safe a particular classroom would be in the event of a shooting. The choir classroom would be a disaster. There were huge windows through which you could see every teeny corner of the room. I just remember things changing drastically...and then they settled down again and I kind of forgot what it was like to be so nervous.
Earlier this year, when the shooting happened in Chardon, Ohio (if you don't remember this, Wikipedia has a page here), I kind of fell apart. I cried about it while talking to my mom on the phone. I got super angry and tried to figure out what I could/should do. I talked to Pastor Linda at my field education congregation and wondered aloud why I was so mad. I finally realized that part of it had to be how close to home this came. Chardon wasn't some place that I had never heard of until this terrible event. Chardon was right around the corner from where I grew up. Chardon was a place very much like my hometown. Chardon could have been Hudson. That was a terrifying thought.
This summer, when the shooting happened in Aurora, I had gotten called into the hospital to attend a family on the death of their loved one. We went to see the Dark Knight Rises later that day, and I had a really hard time enjoying it. All I could think about was the family I had been with, and how sad they were to see their elderly, very sick relative pass away. If it's that hard in that situation, how terrible was it for the families whose loved ones died brutal, senseless deaths while watching a movie? A movie about overcoming a brutal, senseless killer, nonetheless...
And then comes Newtown. Wes and I are terrible about watching the news and keeping up on current events. But, thanks to Facebook, we don't really need to be good about it. Pretty quickly after the shooting, my friend Mark posted an article about it. And again, my world came crashing down. All I wanted to do was hold James and Wes and never leave our house again. All I could think was, "I just brought a child into this world, and this is what happens to children in this world?" I panicked about ever having to drop James off at school. Even now, I'm so angry, so scared, so aware of the evil in this world.
One of our friends posted a line from "I Heard the Bells on Christmas Day" as his status on Friday. The line is "And in despair I bowed my head. 'There is no peace on earth I said.'" I think a lot of us feel this way right now. There doesn't seem to be any peace on earth--how can there be when innocent children are dying? I was listening to this song on my way into school today with tears in my eyes. Sometimes, I think there are no words for how we feel. There doesn't seem to be a way for us to even find the words to pray. In these moments, I frequently find that songs provide the words I couldn't find myself. This song was my prayer this morning. I do have "there is no peace on earth" echoing in my head. I am continually asking God why. But I am also thinking about the end of the song, where it says, "God is not dead nor does God sleep. The wrong shall fail, the right prevail, with peace on earth, good will to all." Even when I'm yelling, even when I'm asking why, God is not dead. God is right here with me, weeping like me. And peace will come to earth...not right away, and not easily. But peace is coming. And that makes me sing "O Come, O Come Emmanuel" with much more force this year. Come, Lord Jesus. Come and rescue us from ourselves...
Wes: So, Jess pretty much hit the nail square on the head. There's nothing more that I could really add to contribute, but I'm gonna try to share some of my experiences and thoughts on this.
I'll first start off with a bit of a rant. I promise to try not to get too high up on my soap box. I absolutely cannot stand the way some people use social media during times of tragedy. It makes me sad, it makes me mad, and it makes me feel a little queazy. How can we be so mean to each other when such horrible things are happening? I finally had to actively stop myself from checking my Facebook because I couldn't believe just how mean everyone was being to everyone else during this time. The same thing happened after the Aurora shootings, the same thing happened after bin Ladin was killed, and the same thing happens quite often with no national provocation. Things that no one would ever say to another person face to face are posted online without hesitation, because we seem to forget that someone else--a real person--is on another internet device reading your hateful, one-sided attacks. When we do this, we are no better than the people holding picket signs who refuse to even try to understand where the other person is coming from. Please, just stop and think before you post something that attacks or demeans someone else.
Second, I am a little surprised at the way people on both sides are handling this gun ownership issue. Yes, horrible acts such as what happened in Newtown would not probably not have happened if we had a better handle on how to deal with mental health issues in our country. The people who desperately need help are not receiving it, and some of them are acting out because of it to the harm of themselves and others. This absolutely should be a much-needed wake-up call about how our nation responds to the needs of those who are too often marginalized by society. But it is just as true and relevant to say that if we had stricter gun control laws, it would not be as easy for something like this to happen. Now, I am a good Texas boy, and I am all for people's rights to own the means to both provide their own food through hunting and secure their home for safety. But we absolutely need to figure out a way to keep firearms out of the hands of those who might cause harm to others.
I would rather all guns be removed from homes than I would another single child die from a gun shot. I am not saying that this is the answer, I'm just saying let's put this in perspective.
Now that I've gotten that off of my chest, I want to tell y'all about my personal experience with all of this. Last week was the third week of Advent. This week's theme is traditionally "Joy." I struggled for a long time on how I was going to handle my Sunday services in the wake of this horrible event. How do you talk about joy when something so dark has happened? To add to matters, both of my congregations experienced the loss of a member this past week. Death seemed to be all around us. Well, I finally decided that I needed to preach on this. I needed to preach on joy because the truth is, joy is something that we should see in droves right now. As God's people here on earth, it is in dark, chaotic times of suffering such as this that our joy should be most prevalent, because it is in such times of suffering that we are able tell the difference between joy and happiness.
You see, happiness is a fleeting thing. It comes and goes as all emotions do. Joy, though, is not an emotion. It is a state of being. Our joy is what causes us to celebrate during times of feasting and also to stand strong during times of suffering. Joy is why we can push through this horrible time and come out stronger than ever, for it is in such dark moments that we cling all the more tightly to our God.
So during the church service, we made balloon animals.
I wanted to take everyone's mind, even for a second, off of the horror, and remind them of a way that joy is shared to those in the grips of death all their lives--those terminal patients in the childrens cancer ward. We smiled, we laughed, and we left there with the work of sharing that joy with a hurting people.
It is my hope that in times like this, we would all try to share that joy in a very special way.
Well, that's all for now. Love you all! TTFN! You stay classy, World Wide Web!
-wes and jess
