My Kids Came Home: A Response to Parkland

My kids came home yesterday.

What a wonderful sound to hear the front door open, to see their backpacks and hearts brimming with stories about their day. Their presence a gift on this chilly afternoon.

At dinner, we traded ‘love grams’ around the table, sharing the beauty we see in each other–the ways we bring joy to our home. (We also handled sibling conflict, attitude, and fussy tots so don’t think too highly of us. Carry on.)

An hour later, we learned that several kids in our country didn’t come home from school. Several parents didn’t get to hear stories from their kids yesterday. Like those in Parkland, FL–my beloved home state–where 17 students left for school and never returned to their families. More victims of another school rampage. On Ash Wednesday.

In the aftermath of this horrific tragedy, I huddled a little closer to my kids this morning. We talked again about their ALICE training at school, about the importance of listening to their teachers, about how to recognize lonely/sad/angry students, and about what to do when they hear the ‘pop-pop-pop’ in a public venue.

My 10 year-old said, “Mrs. E promised us that she’d get us all out first.” I swallowed a lump. What our teachers must now consider between math and reading, science and social studies, is a sad commentary on the state of our country. Instead of putting our collective energy into preventing these acts of violence, we’ve heaped the responsibility onto the potential victims by telling them when to hide and when to run from the horror.

My 8 year-old, voice quivering, said, “Mom, I’m scared. What if a shooter comes in today?” I could offer no guarantees for his safety. I acknowledged his fears and we read again the promises in Scripture that Jesus is with us—that we can always trust Him, especially when we’re afraid.

I never expected I’d have to assure my kids that God is with them as they run for cover, dodging bullets with their classmates.

And I would be naive to think our small town is exempt from this horror.

So what do we do?

Pray. Absolutely. Always. As a person of faith, I pray for God to comfort the Parkland families in their deep sorrow this morning. I grieve with them and for them and for that beautiful community in south Florida. I pray for the teachers and faculty, for law enforcement and first responders, the counselors offering emotional and mental support. I pray for wisdom and hope and for shattered hearts to mend.

I pray for protection over our schools–as I’m sure parents in Sandy Hook and Columbine and Parkland prayed. As I’m sure parents–in the other 18 school shootings in just 45 days this year–have prayed.

But we must also act. How?

How about a few gun policy changes? God doesn’t just use prayer–He uses policy. Good gun laws in place can help protect others. I realize this is not the only solution but it seems like a reasonable, proactive place to start.

Mass shootings are distinctly an American issue—seemingly allowed by Congress and the NRA and those who make money off of gun distribution. Someone, please tell me, what are civilians doing with AR-15s? In every mass school shooting in the past several years, this weapon has been involved. Why are they allowed in the hands of civilians? What purpose to they serve?

It’s no secret that America has a gun obsession. But I think America has a heart problem, too. Maybe our hearts long for weapons we don’t really need. Maybe we’re more concerned with control and rights and the feeling of power we get when we possess a rifle of this sort–in the name of self-protection.

Maybe we don’t need to set aside our ‘right to bear arms’ but maybe we need to set aside our ‘right to bear those kinds of arms’. Like assault rifles designed to kill as efficiently as possible. Is there no better way to spend our money? Education? Health care? Pro-life endeavors? Poverty?

If we’re to model the ways of Jesus and prove we value life, then it’s past time we lay down our right to power like He did. Isn’t that what love does? It sacrifices its own rights for the sake of another.

I’m beginning to believe we love our rights—our guns and the warped sense of power they give us–more than we love our children.

For those looking to act, here are two organizations you can check out:

Everytown.org

http://demandtheban.org