Gray skies hung low over South Denver this week and tears poured from the heavens. Snow fell on daffodils blanketing signs of new life. The flowers bowed their sunny heads, weary from the cold. Another school shooting.
Media footage showed frantic parents packed into a nearby gymnasium, phones in hand and eyes imploring its screen to flash a message: your child is okay. The voice of the Denver native newscaster wavered and broke as she reported details about the people involved—her people. My people.
I padded downstairs early this morning, three days after the shooting at the STEM school that left one student dead and eight others injured. I comb through articles and reports and social media posts. The 18-year old suspect has unruly, partially dyed pink hair and hangs his head in his first court hearing. He has been quoted saying “you know what I hate? All these Christians who hate gays.” His car was allegedly spray-painted with ‘666’ and a pentagram.
The second suspect, age 16, is a transgender male in the process of transitioning from female to male. Sources say that the motive “went beyond bullying and involved revenge and anger towards others at the school.” The suspects obtained their weapons from one of their parents. A school vigil was interrupted and prematurely dismissed when STEM students started chanting “mental health” to a room full of anti-gun activists and politicians.
Tears stream down my face at the brokenness and complexity of it all, and the glaring reminder that hurt people hurt people. I wince when I read the older suspect’s experience with Christians and their hatred towards gays. I’m heartbroken when I pause to surmise just how much despair the younger suspect must be in to shoot his peers in a spirit of revenge and anger. Add to the list yet another loss of life, the sweet 18-year old Senior, Kendrick Castillo who would have graduated High School this week.
We live 24 miles from Columbine High School, 15 miles from the Century 16 Aurora movie theater, and 20 miles away from the STEM school in Highlands Ranch. Yet it’s not proximity that bring these tragedies close to home. They hit hard because I am a mother. I am a human. I am a child of God. And we are missing our mark. We are failing at loving people. We are surrounded by everyone and connected to no one. We are too busy to open our eyes. We wield guns when what we really want to be holding is a sign that says SEE ME. KNOW ME. LOVE ME.
Oh, Broken World, if only I could sit with you for one moment. I would gently ask you to lay aside your weapons. I would draw you near and whisper in your ear you are loved. You are worthy. You are enough.
“Come to me all of you who are weary and carry heavy burdens and I will give you rest.” -Jesus
Dramatic Paddocks 