My instant response to the shootings of Roanoke news anchor Alison Parker and her cameraman Adam Ward was one of complete shock. I sat there at my computer, mouth open, jaw dropped, mumbling an internal prayer for them and their families, wondering what had I just witnessed. Was it a random shooting of a live news report? Was it a heart broken ex? A vindictive former employee? Did it matter? Instantly, my mind went through images of my baby girl, my boy, my Mel. I wondered what family they had. How impossible it would be to give news like that to a loved one. But more than anything, simple, normal, shock at what had just happened.
I don’t know how I, or we as a culture, can still be shocked by things like this. Our news is inundated with stories about shootings, beatings, riots, and violence every day. There is an army of militant fundamentalists killing Christians and minorities in Syria everyday; black men (the innocent and guilty alike) are murdered on our streets; angry white men killing random police officers who only wanted to help them. I witnessed the Twin Towers fall on my tv. I remember the space shuttle explosions, and the images of American hostages hanging from raptors in Iran.
And yet, I, and we are still shocked at events like this. Hundreds of shootings every day, and yet somehow each individual one causes ripples and waves of emotion and reaction in our country. There is an undeniable and innate force within us that wants us to hope, believe in the goodness of each other, and yet, there is an obvious other force active in the world seeking to destroy that hope, that forgiveness, that ability to see through the black and the bleak and the broken, and leave us only to revel in the terrible realities that our world pools at our feet.
I often find myself staring at my kids when I think about events like this. My whole heart wrapped there in the preciousness of their faces, the joy and effervescence of their laughs. I wonder what their world will be like. Will it be worse than this? I even sometimes, when I walk to the edge of the deepest dark crags of my mind, wonder if I have done them a disservice by bringing them into all of this? Was I simply selfish wanting something to love as much as I love them and my Mel.
And yet here I am still shocked at what I watched on my Twitter feed today. My innate faith that ultimately the good will win over and defeat this world wins my own conscious over as well. I think of my kids, my school kids, the walk I took with my wife last night, the lake reflecting the dying light, a cool breeze at our backs, the fisherman’s line arching against the black silhouette of maples and pines. I think of these things and know that they are my reality. I think of these things and say thankful prayers that they are my reality, and that no matter what happens in this world, the goodness of these things, these people, that I have been given can not be turned black. It is almost more shocking how good the world can be in the face of all the shocking evil we see.
So, I will say more prayers for the families of all the world’s victims. My silent and hopeful flags raised into the prevailing winds of calamity and chaos, ever hopeful the one who brings light and hope will bring peace to these families and times. I will pray that I will forever be shocked by what evil is capable of, that my soul will never be deadened to the hope and goodness that does exist amidst everything else.
