This piece was originally a Facebook post fueled by the intense emotional events that took place during the first week of May 2019. I’ve adapted it just a bit to more accurately honor those who lost their lives.
Today, I am struggling.
I’ve always been an empathetic person.
Sometimes I feel like I can sense other people’s emotions, and I feel them exactly as if they were my own emotions.
This part of my personality has been a positive in many ways.
I’m more able to truly understand the reasons why people make the choices that they make. I’m able to turn off my preferences and reasoning- and see things from their point of view. I believe that when people feel understood and heard, they begin to trust you to not hurt them the way others may have hurt them- unintentionally- through a lack of understanding.
I can’t turn it off though. At least, not without shutting down completely.
When tragedy strikes in the form of senseless violence- that’s when it’s the worst for me.
The first tragedy to take place this past week was the senseless shooting at UNCC (University of North Carolina, Charlotte Campus) where 2 students, Riley Howell and Ellis “Reed” Parlier lost their lives, and 4 more were injured. The shooters only motivation being the desire for infamy.
Its during times like this that I can’t seem to distinguish my own feelings from what I sense everyone else must be feeling.
My imagination runs wild.
I don’t understand how one human being can make the choice to intentionally, and without provocation, harm another human being.
For years I’ve heard the answer that it’s just a result of sin.
Bad things happen to good people because we have the freedom to choose, and sometimes, our choices affect other people in a negative way.
Death is a result of sin. It’s a curse all of humanity is faced with. The only difference being how we die.
This response is easier to accept when the “bad things” are sickness, or poverty, or conflict. Those things aren’t as final. There is a sense of hope extended to the future, a deeply desired delay of the inevitable.
Then, I heard of the passing of the beloved Rachel Held Evans.
Her book “Inspired” still only half read sitting beside me.
A 37 year old woman. A wife. A mother. An author. A speaker. A Jesus lover. A friend to many. A beacon of hope to the marginalized.
Unexpectedly and suddenly- due to unforeseen complications from the flu- was gone forever.
I don’t know how to accept it when the “bad things” are the murder of innocent people. I also don’t know how to accept it when the “bad things” are the unanswered prayers of so many for someone so loved, and who was doing so much good.
Then later that very same day, as if the other two events weren’t bad enough, I read the news that a Mooresville Police Officer was shot in the line of duty. Only 2 minutes from where I live.
I prayed my standard prayer for the safety of all involved, checked for updates, made sure my family was safe, and went to bed.
I woke up at 3:30 in the morning, checked for updates, and learned that Police Officer Sheldon, the K-9 officer in our community, did not survive his injuries.
It was a routine traffic stop. It made no sense.
I later learned that the suspect had, after fleeing the scene, gone to his apartment and shot himself.
That made even less sense.
Why would he murder a police officer to avoid whatever he was trying to avoid- but then, murder himself too?
Death is so final. Wouldn’t that be worse than anything he was trying to avoid in the first place? Why didn’t he think things through?
So many questions. Absolutely no satisfying answers.
On Sunday, we went to church like normal. I could already feel the heaviness of everything from the past week fighting for control of my mind.
It takes incredible effort for me to not spiral into a never-ending tidal wave of sadness, fear, depression and anxiety.
I only half listened to the sermon. I was too distracted. Even so, I heard our pastor make the comment that we can’t control God.
That God heals those He chooses to heal. That God shows mercy on those He chooses to show mercy. And that the difference is favor.
My defenses immediately went up.
“But God is Just”, my internal monologue objected, “and the Bible says that he doesn’t have favorites. So, how do you reconcile the concept of a just, merciful, loving God, with the concept of a God who is choosing NOT to intervene?
How does the idea that God has no favorites jive with the idea that God chooses to save some, and not others? That God chooses to heal some, and not others?”
I know the go to religious responses.
I’ve dedicated the majority of my life to learning the perfect response for every situation so I would be seen as a person of great faith.
“His ways are higher than our ways.”
“God can make good come out of any situation.”
“Maybe there was a reason that isn’t evident yet.”
In all honesty though, those standard responses aren’t very helpful.
They aren’t helpful to those who are left to pick up the pieces of a tragic loss.
They aren’t helpful to those who are already struggling with their faith.
They aren’t helpful to those who are already engaged in a wrestling match with God.
Sometimes, not having an answer is better than trying to make sense of a senseless situation.
Sometimes, bad stuff just happens, and there is no good reason for it.
That realization is more comforting than trying to figure out why God deemed it necessary for someone you love to die. More comforting than trying to understand what potential good offsets such a terrible evil.
Not having an answer isn’t a sign of a lack of faith.
Sometimes, wrestling with God is okay.
It’s okay to grieve, to feel pain, to hurt, to be angry- not being in a constant state of joy doesn’t make you less of a Christian, or less of a person of faith.
Not being joyful doesn’t make you less than.
Jesus himself was described as a man acquainted with grief.
Allow yourself to feel. Don’t fake it. Be honest with yourself and others about your emotions.
Doing so gives others the permission they need to do the same.
So, today, I am struggling.
I don’t know why the first week of May was the last week of the lives of these heroes, I just know that it was.
For now, that has to be enough.
The Ashley Smith Blog 