Like you I’ve been trying to process the most recent senseless killings in Boulder (and Atlanta). I’ve started several pieces trying to answer questions.
“Devil in the Queen City” asked how and why evil so often lives alongside beauty? How could a glorious place like Colorado become one of the most deadly? In the seven tragedies since Columbine in 1993 forty-three people have died and thousands (more?) have been traumatized.
The daughter of one of my best friends hid in a closet and survived Columbine. I am close with a retired police officer who was one of the first on the campus. The weight he carries is often too easy to see straining his handsome, rugged face. I know few people who have lived on the Front Range long that are not wounded by these attacks.
But my answers felt flat.
So I read. And there it was. Not an answer but an avenue to pursue. It seems when even Jesus could not find answers he simply called out to the Father. “Why have you forsaken me?” He asked from the cross. It seemed good to me then to do likewise.
I simply shook my pen at God and cried out to him.
This the result:
O Redeemer:
Our hearts bleed
And eyes flood with grief.
We cry out for justice,
Answers, comfort,
Redemption, and relief.
Bullets once again
Have weaponized
What we strain
Yet fail to name.
Was it fear, depression, brokenness,
Hate, doubt, blame,
Revenge, racism, sickness, or fame?
Or all these rolled together
In a bomb-like ball
That detonated in this man
And stole ten innocent lives all.
Grief weighs on grief.
Like layers of skin
We cannot sluff off.
Why, how, what
Can we do?
Shake our fists at you?
Anger, fear, blame,
And doubt overwhelm us.
One man wearing a tactical vest
Covering a tarnished image of you
Violated ten others
Created in your image too.
It makes no sense!
Eric, Denny, Neven, Rikki,
Tralona, Teri, Kevin,
Suzanne, Lynn, and Jody.
Their voices, insights,
Questions, peculiarities,
Contributions, tears, seed,
Wisdom, laughter, and need
He tried to erase.
But, God, your memory and love of them
And ours are longer than this shadow
Of death can reach.
Redeem their loss, God of justice.
Make our backs strong
To bear this pain
And to move in your power
To keep it from happening again.
How could he believe
Taking life
Is anyway to receive?
And how often do we
Live in that same place?
Hear us, O Lord,
To those near to the ten,
And those not,
Walk beside, before, and after,
Comfort, speak, and listen.
Deliver justice and redemption
Once more
The way you did
That day
You transformed
Death to life, hate to love,
Converting violence
On a tortuous cross
Into a gleaming symbol
Of forgiveness and grace.
Transform this tragedy
Not only in our souls
But bodily.
Embolden and empower us
To use your love
To tear down hate, despair, and violence.
Amen
Pass this prayer along, please!
yes,… anguish,… our human hearts, made in the “image of God”, truly cannot process this grim aspect of our collective (fallen) “reality”,… perceiving from the time of the “innocence of our childhood”, it is always a challenge to reconcile such stark tragedy with the “goodness of God”, that we can feel radiating towards us, on a bright, warm sunny afternoon, with fluffy clouds floating sweetly by, in a blue Springtime sky,… our hearts recoil, wondering “how could this possibly be?”,… the pain is inconceivable, unbearable,… our hearts cannot process the answer,… it is another aspect of our consciousness that must mature and eventually “learns the answer”,… God didn’t “do” this,… there is a separate and rebellious “enemy” that seeks to indwell God’s precious Creation, and actually is this malignantly evil,… it is indeed a challenge for us all, to learn to “deal with this”,… apparently the “answer” that God offers us is a promise that eventually completely transcends the confines and limits of this “life”,…