This past weekend started off great.
One of my close friends birthdays was the following week and we had planned her a surprise party on the Saturday before. It went off with a hitch and afterwards we all hanged around shooting the breeze talking about the up coming election and gun policies. You know, common topics for twenty-something-year-olds concerned about the future.
As a result, I got home around midnight and went straight to bed. That was Saturday June 11.
The next morning I woke up late, got ready in a rush and zoomed to church. I had turned off my radio on the way home and in my rush didn't even notice it wasn't on till I got to church.
Inside, I said my greetings and found a seat with my friends. The worship service started and it seemed to be just like any other Sunday morning.
Then my pastor got up and announced that a horrible shooting had happened in Orlando, FL, during the morning hours and that a gunman had shot and killed 50 people, maybe more.
That's all he said before adding one more thing: "Let us pray for the city of Orlando and the people affected by this horrible tragedy."
At the time I had no idea that the gunman had been an ISIS sympathizer, or that the club the people had been killed in was a gay nightclub. All I knew was that people had been hurt and the only response appropriate was to pray to my God for healing for all those involved.
After I found out more about the circumstances my heart did not harden towards the victims. If anything, it is softened more.
Beyond how they may have identified sexually, they were first and foremost people with hopes and dreams and they did not deserve such an ending.
As a Christian, I have grown up being taught that God loves all people, regardless of their past sins, God loves all of mankind; with all its ugliness, hurts, and flaws.
And if this is not an ugly, awful situation I don't know what is.
In the coming days and weeks, I know lots of words will be written about these things: the victims and their stories, the gunman and why he did what he did, the bravery and heroics of first responders on the scene. . . .
While these okay, even good things to hear, I know other things will be written: that they had this coming to them, that all muslims are like this, and so on. . . .
And the last thing I want to do is add to the din of voices shouting out I know that staying silent is almost worse.
What I want to say is this: I am sorry. I am sorry that you are gone. I am sorry that your family and friends are hurting. I am sorry that so many lights were snuffed out without a second thought.
While I may not have agreed with many of you on the basis of sexual orientation, or religion, I do know one thing, you were a created human being and you were loved not only by other human beings but by the God I follow.
So I would have loved you too if we had met.
I hope that in the days to come we who are still living remember that love is stronger than fear or anger; that somehow good can come of this pain. Because that is the best way to honor those who have lost their lives in this horrific travesty.
May God be with us all.
