Blind Leap of Faith

I know that no one gives a rat's ass what some lady in the middle of the country a thousand miles away from Orlando has to say about the horrific events of this week, but I just need to sort out my feelings. Writing them down seems like the best way to do it.  The fact is that words are hard to find to describe any of what happened.  We have all seen the news.  We have all seen the broadcasted text messages from the innocent victims sent seconds before they died.  We have seen pictures of the deranged man who decided to play God.  It's vile.  It's horrible.  It's a feeling in the pit of your core of sadness, anger, and confusion so deep that it is hard to breathe.  

Since I can't pretend to understand how any of the victims family or friends are coping with this tragedy, I won't.  It would be...I can't think of the right word other than just wrong...to pretend that I could step in their shoes and feel their pain.  We all can just sit thousands of miles away with broken hearts.  Broken hearts for every person...victims, families of victims, friends of victims, first responders, and the community of Orlando at large.  

I realize that children don't have the intellectual ability to wrap their head around the enormity of such a horrible act of rage and murder, but as I was talking with my kids the morning after it happened, a sudden realization hit me like a ton of bricks.  This is their world.  This is what we are handing over to them.  They are desensitized to the violence because this is what they see everyday on television, in the movies, and in their video games.  A mass murder is not even a surprising thing to them.  It is their normal.  When I go out to a public place my eyes are scanning the crowd for any potential threat.  I am always trying to figure out the way to the nearest exit so I can get my family out in case of an emergency.  Them, not so much.  It is a normal risk they take.  They don't even know they are taking it.  It is just like the normal risk we take by getting in the car everyday to go someplace.  We know there is always a chance that the we could get in an accident, but we are not fazed by that risk at all.  It's just what we do.  

I guess we all just take a blind leap of faith everyday by walking out our front door.  Most of us are good, honest, caring people who just live in a broken world.  The thing is we still walk out into that world hoping and praying that we can somehow help it become less broken.  Can we help put the pieces back together?  I certainly hope so.  No, more importantly we have to.  I want to learn from my kids to take a blind leap of faith that everything will be ok, and I want them to learn from me that no matter how banged up and broken our world is that I still have faith in my fellow man that we can make it through together.  I promise that I will keep walking out my front door and taking that step.  

I was so moved by a post on Facebook the other day by a friend, Terry Beeson.  This is what she said:
It's Flag Day. I didn't know that when I took my mother to her opthomologist's office. Many of the patients in the waiting room were WWII veterans. The conversation among those men flowed from the horror of the terrorist attack in Orlando to their service during WWII. One man described being on a destroyer that was torpedoed, jumping off the ship fearful of being attacked by sharks. Another man described storming Normandy Beach, unimaginable carnage everywhere. I asked how he had the courage to get out of the ship. He looked at me and smiled. He said, "well, you know, we really didn't have a choice, and we don't have a choice now."

I love that last line...He looked at me and smiled.  He said, "Well, you know we really didn't have a choice, and we don't have a choice now."  Thank you, Terry, for sharing that!

So, because we don't have a choice, my friends, we all will walk out the door together and try and put back together the pieces of our broken world.