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Fall/Winter 2000 |
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 "I
remember one father boiling with anger when we talked about
forgiveness. 'They killed my son,' he seethed between clenched
teeth. 'Now we know how God feels,'
"It was time to stop and catch my breath. Next to the gate was the bar and across from the bar was a chapel. Believe me, I now know the sensation of having an angel on one shoulder and the devil on the other. Salvation or libations? Yes, I chose the chapel, but at that moment, it was a stretch."
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What
Columbine Has On May 28th, 1981, I graduated from Arapahoe High School in Littleton, Colorado. Like the rest of my senior class, I pondered what I had actually learned for the last four years of my academic life. How to make a bong in Ceramics I, that Russians are sneaky in Political Science, that everyone, to some degree, is crazy in Psychology, school lunches are definitely unappetizing when served by a woman with a mole on her chin with several projectile hairs sticking out of it, and that my voice is definitely an alto in Choir. As we struggled to stay awake through the Valedictorian speech, I thought about the scholarship offers I had received. In all honesty, I couldn’t care less; I was ready to get out into the big, bad world. Yet, if someone had told me on that day that the most important lessons I would learn in life would come from our rival school down the road 18 years after I graduated, I would have been rolling on the auditorium floor in laughter. Columbine? A school of what I perceived to be then, snobby rich kids? Never in my wildest dreams could I comprehend what would happen a "lifetime" later. The most we ever did to the jocks who annoyed us was let the air out of their car tires in the parking lot or deface their school pictures in the yearbook. But as the years wore on and morality eroded in our country, it becomes painfully honest that society’s regard of human life is deteriorating. Yes, this is what we reap from Roe vs. Wade, violent movies, today’s music, double income families, violent video games, and a fornicating world leader, among so many other disturbing trends. Yet there was more to be learned. Recently, I received the news that my manager at work killed himself and one of my best friends lost his baby shortly after childbirth, (all within 6 hours of each other). The sadness tore me in half. I made plans to fly to Texas for the following weekend to revisit some old friends, reconcile some things from my past, and pay my last respects to my best friend buried there after 13 years - anything to get away from tragedy on the "home front". In the end, what an abruptly sobering weekend it turned out to be. It all began at the very end of my stay when an old high school friend of mine was providing me a lift back to Dallas/Ft. Worth to catch my return flight back to Denver. I had a couple of hours remaining before I had to depart and I hadn’t yet been to the graveyard where my best friend from high school was buried, so we headed out for a brief visit to his gravesite enroute to the airport. While on our way, however, she almost killed her 8-month-old son and I as she lost control of the borrowed van we were in, which by all rights should have flipped in the ditch, but by the grace of God, remained upright. Everybody was sort of okay. I should have known her immediate disclaimer of not being high as the exact reason it happened in the first place. Out of safety for all of us, I demanded the keys after threatening to call the police on her. We quickly stopped by a nearby store to get a prescription filled for her (after spending a big chunk earlier in the day in the Baylor Hospital ER for an unrelated "injury"). While in the store, she decided to shoplift a huge amount of stuff while I was watching her son out in the van. She was stopped by store security in the parking lot on her way back. As it turned out, she was a repeat offender and was hit with a felony on the spot. The store manager realized I was an "innocent patsy", so they let me go as they hauled her away. On one hand I was grateful, but I had only 2 ½ hours left to make my flight with her baby son in this borrowed van in a strange town! In quiet desperation, I finally arrived at the graveyard, which was just a few more miles down the road, and found my friend buried in an "unmarked" grave with no headstone, a cheap wooden cross and dirty plastic flowers marking the spot where he was laid to rest. I flipped! (His father’s reasoning was that as long as there was no headstone he really wasn’t dead, it was like he was "just out of town".) I’d seen road kill and dogs have a better resting place. After a brief, but memorable visit with him, I then began my attempt to track down the baby’s family who was in the next town over. I pull into a gas station in a nearby upscale neighborhood close to where I thought I was supposed to be going and called the baby’s grandfather. While on the phone with him explaining everything that had happened, a lady from across the way started yelling at me for leaving the baby alone in the van (the van is parked in the shade, windows rolled down, less than 20 ft. away from where I was with the car keys). I made the mistake of becoming greatly annoyed and replied angrily at her to mind her own business seasoned with a teaspoonful of profanities. I shouted to her that it wasn’t my van, that the baby wasn’t mine either, and that I was right in the middle of an emergency. She became miffed and stomped off. Upon finishing the call, I got back on the highway and tore off to the next town. Minutes later, a fleet of Texas Rangers and State Troopers were following me on the freeway with their lights on. I pulled over to the shoulder of the road and several of them surrounded the van and aggressively approached me "SWAT style" in suspicion of "grand theft auto" and "kidnapping", courtesy of the woman back at the gas station. The clock ticked rapidly toward departure time, as the state troopers, who had finally taken their hands off their guns, were kind enough to check out my story. Amazingly, they let me be on my way without proof of insurance or registration on the van! I finally got the baby over to his grandparents and they gave me a breakneck ride back to the airport with just seconds to spare. I rushed to the gate wondering if I had already missed the flight, but instead found that it had been delayed! It was time to stop and catch my breath. Next to the gate was the bar and across from the bar was a chapel. Believe me, I now know the sensation of having an angel on one shoulder and the devil on the other. Salvation or libations? Yes, I chose the chapel, but at that moment, it was a stretch. While in the chapel praying, I reflected back on the reconciliation I had with my previous church out in California a month before at a long overdue re-union. I realized I would have not spent money I really didn’t have on flying out to California (two weeks after attending the Gathering no less!) and swallow my pride if Columbine hadn’t happened. A lot of my friends skipped the re-union still burnt on how our church dissolved, but I thought that, as long as the pastor was willing to make amends, I would meet him half way. To my surprise he asked me to speak on Columbine before the church. After giving a brief synopsis on the Lullaby For Columbine Project, I later wrote down the "heart" of the matter. What I learned from Columbine is this…life is incredibly fragile. That no one on the face of this earth has sinned more against me than I have to God. The price of forgiveness is high; the value of forgiveness is higher. I am in no position to withhold forgiveness from anyone (including a man who murdered my cousin so long ago and almost ruined our lives…). Hard hearts get broken, better to keep yours soft. Most of the offenses in life are really petty grievances that need to be forgiven. Life is way too short to hold a grudge. Everyone’s life has some redeeming value. Parents need to put their children first; they are our future (and also the ones that will be picking out your nursing homes!) As I meet these people who have lost their children, and mostly the students themselves, I learned how God can change a heart and be glorified in what the world deems ungodly circumstances. I remember one father boiling with anger when we talked about forgiveness. "They killed my son," he seethed between clenched teeth. "Now we know how God feels," I thought. I
want to encourage you to look for the good in the midst of horror and
pain and have complete faith in the sovereignty of God who is so much
greater. In all of the horrific circumstances in life, He is still there. Erin
McNamara came on board with LFC a year ago and has played a pivotal
role in bringing together many significant forces that have greatly
impacted our mission. She possesses a diverse experience base in the
music industry and has been extensively involved with other non-profit
causes to help make the world a better place. Among the most admirable
qualities of this special lady is her humility, her intense faith in
God, and her profound sense of humor and wit which has come in handy
during the trials we have occasionally faced. We feel truly blessed
to have her as a part of the LFC family and look forward to working
with her as we continue down our path of bringing healing to the hurting. |
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