Rejoice with those who rejoice, weep with those who weep...
Do not be overcome by evil, but overcome evil with good.
- Romans 12:15; 21
September 2007
I had just begun working in after-school programming at IPS
School 20. In an attempt to get to know my fifteen K, 1st and 2nd
grade students I asked, “If you were an
animal, which animal would you be?" Cold-eyed and scrawny Christopher said,
“I would be a bird so that I could fly
with my dad.” Curious, I inquired about his dad. Christopher replied, “The cops shot my dad and he died.” I do
not remember my exact response; however I do remember that Christopher’s
confession hit me like a ton of bricks. What was the correct response? I suddenly
understood why there was a cold and pain-stricken look in his eyes. The reality
of Christopher’s family tragedy would later shed light on his anger and violent
behavior that I encountered throughout the next year.
July 20, 2012
The interns and I arrived at Gateway High School with the
desire to love, bless and encourage the victims and victims’ families of the
Aurora Movie Theater Massacre that had happened at midnight that morning. The
atmosphere was heavy with stark dichotomies; weeping and praying; hopelessness
and faith; salvation and death; survivors and the murdered.
A community clergyman shared one of the victim’s stories with me. A twenty-something woman had escaped the theater after being shielded from the bullets by her boyfriend. She ran free leaving her boyfriend’s wounded and bleeding body behind. She entered Gateway High School with her face and clothes blood-stained. Her family drove swiftly through the night from New Mexico to be by her side as she awaited news about her boyfriend. Seconds after the clergyman finished this account, the woman’s mother emerged down the hall in search for the restroom. Recognizing that the mother was on the verge of an emotional breakdown, I followed her into the bathroom.
I found her standing over the sink frantically scrubbing her daughter’s wallet with a thin paper-towel. I slowly approached her and asked, “Do you need help? Do you want me to do that for you?” She reacted strongly, giving way to her emotions. “This is his blood on her purse!” she screamed. Crying harder and harder, she went into the stall as if she were about to vomit. When she emerged, she backed herself into the corner, simultaneously weeping, “Why? God! Why?” I stood there speechless watching her struggle with the awful realities of the tragedy. I wanted to go to her and wrap my arms around her, but I was frozen in fear. I wanted to comfort her with the hope of Christ, but no words surfaced to my tongue. Thankfully a woman from Franklin Graham’s Emergency Response team, a volunteer trained to respond to tragedy, entered the bathroom. Without hesitation she went straight up to the weeping woman and put her hand s on the woman’s shoulders. Feeling useless I left the bathroom in defeat. I had never witnessed such raw and life-wrecking pain. Sorrow and the weight of the tragedy overcame me and I began to weep mixed tears of pain, hopelessness and failure.
A community clergyman shared one of the victim’s stories with me. A twenty-something woman had escaped the theater after being shielded from the bullets by her boyfriend. She ran free leaving her boyfriend’s wounded and bleeding body behind. She entered Gateway High School with her face and clothes blood-stained. Her family drove swiftly through the night from New Mexico to be by her side as she awaited news about her boyfriend. Seconds after the clergyman finished this account, the woman’s mother emerged down the hall in search for the restroom. Recognizing that the mother was on the verge of an emotional breakdown, I followed her into the bathroom.
I found her standing over the sink frantically scrubbing her daughter’s wallet with a thin paper-towel. I slowly approached her and asked, “Do you need help? Do you want me to do that for you?” She reacted strongly, giving way to her emotions. “This is his blood on her purse!” she screamed. Crying harder and harder, she went into the stall as if she were about to vomit. When she emerged, she backed herself into the corner, simultaneously weeping, “Why? God! Why?” I stood there speechless watching her struggle with the awful realities of the tragedy. I wanted to go to her and wrap my arms around her, but I was frozen in fear. I wanted to comfort her with the hope of Christ, but no words surfaced to my tongue. Thankfully a woman from Franklin Graham’s Emergency Response team, a volunteer trained to respond to tragedy, entered the bathroom. Without hesitation she went straight up to the weeping woman and put her hand s on the woman’s shoulders. Feeling useless I left the bathroom in defeat. I had never witnessed such raw and life-wrecking pain. Sorrow and the weight of the tragedy overcame me and I began to weep mixed tears of pain, hopelessness and failure.
October 8, 2012
I was tutoring Daniel at a local DPS elementary school. Daniel is a shy, reserved and quiet
third-grader that struggles with reading. When I asked Daniel if he had
completed his book report, Daniel replied, “No
because I went to the mountains.” Excited that this city-dwelling child had
the opportunity to go the mountains, I inquired about his trip. Daniel
explained, “We had to go to the mountains
to pick up my uncle. My uncle was taken by a group of men and left in the
desert in a hole. He broke his leg.” I was not expecting to hear such a
reply. I asked him about his family and who he lived with. Daniel answered in a
dull voice, “I live with my uncle, my mom
and my brother, Cristen. He is six. I live with them but not with my dad. My
dad died. He was shot in Mexico when I was four. I had two dads. The other one
died because he was old.” My heart broke for Daniel. I was clueless as how
to respond. I offered my condolences saying, “I’m sorry” and “Your mom is
so lucky to have you.” My response seemed empty and cliche. Once again, I
wondered “What is the right thing to say in this situation?” The only thing
that felt worthy of saying was “Daniel,
God loves you. He is your heavenly Father. He is with you.” Due to the
school guidelines, I had to keep this message, that Daniel so desperately
needed to hear, to myself.
While I was struck speechless by these tragedies I
encountered, I trust that in my weakness God was strong. In moments of weeping
with those who weep God increases my reliance upon Him and sanctifies me. I
have no hope to share apart from Christ, so I pray that when tragedy comes
knocking God will be graceful and help me to respond in truth and deed, surpassing
any barriers that may be standing in the way.
I offer this prayer:
“God, You know the depths of the pain and suffering felt by Christopher,
the weeping mother and Daniel. In Your perfect sovereignty, You have
orchestrated every event in their lives for Your holy purposes. In Your perfect
sovereignty, You caused my path to cross with theirs, letting me weep with
those who weep. May the reality of tragedy keep me dependent and reliant on You
alone. There is no hope or salvation apart from You. Be magnified in my words
and actions. You are the Father to the fatherless, like Christopher and Daniel.
Pour out Your compassion on them and lead them to be mighty men of God. Jesus,
You are the Prince of Peace. Pour out Your peace and comfort on the weeping
mother and her daughter as they persevere through their loss. God I thank You
for who You are. Amen.”
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