THINK (Photo credit: Erik Eckel)
I will be honest. I only know that 3 have been killed, and 147 injured. I have heard that from NPR, and have actively avoided watching TV. I have briefly glanced at Facebook statuses which either express horror, or underscore people’s own insecurity. Muslim? Then you go on a rant for people to be open-minded and wait for the person to be caught before blaming. White? Silence. Because the reality is if it’s a minority, we will put you in a box. We will launch missiles, but if you are white, we will just call you mental and ask for gun control. These types of events are so loaded that many of us struggle not to say anything that compartmentalized or sounds vaguely racist or xenophobic.And others feel free to spew their vision of the world. But as humans, that’s what we do to survive. It does not make it right, it just is.
So before we go balls to the walls on our social media networks announcing what we think, perhaps just for a moment take some time and think about those lost, and perhaps forever maimed mentally. Give a breath and a prayer to the ones who will never get to see another day. These type of tragedies make me realize how truly alone we have become. We only listen to like minds, and have no interest in knowing the Truth. Whatever fits into our narrow scope of thoughts has to be the truth. I realize that past experience forms our present prejudices, but it also allows us not to think anymore. We, as humans, can do better than that. We owe it to ourselves to not let emotion run us all the time. Yes, the person(s) intended to create terror, but their real win will happen when we become less tolerant, and more willing to let others do the thinking and actions for us. We can do better than that.
We have to.
Image via Wikipedia
by Jemal Yarbrough
In the fading light of the day, I say a small prayer for my friend’s father who passed away 2 nights ago. The house is quiet as usual, and she rests uneasily but expectantly for the nausea to follow. A friend had just visited, the worry lines creased deep into her forehead due to the recent seizure experienced by her little brother. 2011 seems to be foreboding, and I wonder if more bad news is to come.
But that really is the easy way out. What is it about a series of bad events that makes us believe that we are unlucky or somehow cursed? I close my eyes and see my family, and nothing but joy gratitude and loves comes into my soul. There is not a single relative that I don’t love with all my heart and soul. It almost seems like heresy to believe that I have the perfect family. I know my love for them is imperfect because I do not thank God or revel in my blessings of having a truly amazing family enough. I would daresay that my family is worlds better than the ones I hear about in fictional novels. I have the ULTIMATE FAMILY, and their wondrous love and prayers are the reason I can sit here clacking away while she struggles with her pain.
Their thoughts and prayers are the reason I know with all my heart and soul that this too shall pass. That this stupid Cancer is merely a minor bump on the long road of life. And I pray even harder. Pray for my blessings, pray that I am at the unfortunate cross roads to hear about friends parents dying, sibling suffering uncalled for pain, and it makes me ache for my mom and dad who are merely a block away from me physically but always reside in my heart. I fall in love each time my sisters come over or her brothers do. Her mom’s pain reverberates in my heart, and I wish I could inhale all their worry and fear. So I thank God yet again for joining us with them. For giving us real soldiers so we can mercilessly kill the killer.
And then I come to my friends. I always thought I had a few good friends, but this recent adventure of ours has introduced me to an amazing soul:Biba, who has selflessly given her time and energy to heal the love of my life. She made the chemo session seem as just a routine doctor’s visit and I do not think I can ever thank enough. And then there are others who think they can achieve comfort by merely texting or leaving quick voice mails. Don’t get me wrong the concern is real but it’s minuscule as if the disease she’s batting is minor or one that can fit in 140 characters or less. The sad part is that healing her takes nothing more than their physical contact but it’s treated as if she’s not worth that. And it hurts. But we move on because we have to, and we will remember. They are the past, and the future we have looks brighter due to the shining souls in our life. The rest of them can take their indifferent asses back to Facebook, Twitter and texts, and become as irrelevant as the social media horse they rode in on.
- Sincerity And Prayer (samuelatgilgal.wordpress.com)