You attempted to take the life of one of my dearest friends over a fleshly desire you were not able to overcome, so you fought with fear. And so did I. You were not born angry, you were not born corrupted and deep down, you and I truly believe this. But somehow, somewhere along the way, you gave into the very being that is against you.
I do not know where your fear came from, but God did not place that over your life. I do not know whether you acted out of fear because of rage, jealousy, or because you were taught that it was cool if you got what you wanted at the sacrifice of another's life. I do not know whether if someone told you that it was okay to play with guns as simply as it is to take one's own life because you believed for an instant, your entitlement meant more than a mere being you took as a stranger. I do not know if what you feared came from your own television in your own living room that burnt the eyes as an innocent child. I do know if that same innocent child witnessed an act far greater against your own
*Just like God told Jeremiah, God so deeply loved you and cared for you even before you were in your mother's womb. But I do not know what happened to you next. I hope you can still go home to your mother and tell her how much you love her as she looks into your fearful eyes and says, "you are safe with me."
But I know whatever happened that so corrupted your heart in the midst of that Wednesday night, there was fear. There was pre-meditation. Maybe you didn't wake up that morning wanting to kill somebody. Maybe you held the gun in your pocket because we have learned to be on guard to those who want to kill us. Maybe in your moment of weakness, you forgot about how much you loved your own mother and forgot about how much the mother must have loved the young girl you shot down. I do not know.
I do not know.
I do know, though, that I am to be set apart to know the difference between the real enemy and who he places his blame on. I refuse to conform to the place the same blame you misjudged. Though, just as those moments of weakness, I fell fear to your very own kind. In those moments, you were defiant. In those moments, I was defiant.
I did not have enough Faith over fear to forgive just as you did not have enough Faith over attempted murder to shoot her.
I am a lover of you now, but I will admit, I hated you then. So if bad men love their mothers, what does this make of me? In my moment of weakness, I spewed the same hate out of the fear, anger, and memory of the incidents of my own childhood from the very children who I hope grew out of their defiant stage. I called you names and refused to love you. And for that, I am sorry. I am sorry I was no better than you in those moments.
My fiance even prayed for you, but I denied the Grace, Mercy, and Forgiveness because I did not want the satisfaction of knowing "you got away with it."
I refused to pray for you until I realized, Paul killed people like me too.
I am jumping for joy over my dear friend's fast recovery but I am still trying to find the same joy knowing that God can redeem you, too.
I do not know if I can forgive you because she survived. I do not know if I can forgive you because she chose to forgive you. I do not know if I have enough Faith to understand the difference of my call to love you, regardless. But I refuse to dwell on the negatives of what could have happened because I would still be
All I know is that I am trying to.
IF somehow you are reading this or somehow this gets passed on in your direction, I want you to know that:
-You are not murder.
-You are not pride.
-You are not oppressed.
-You are not shame.
-You are not malice and you are not evil.
-You can be Prodigal Sons.
-God can use you
*Jeremiah 1
