If there is a Heaven, I can only hope little Emilie Parker and 19 of her friends were the ones to greet Rev. Clementa Pinckney and eight of his worshippers.
If there is Heaven, I can only hope that the Lost Angels of Sandy Hook were the ones to take the hands of our latest lost ones and led them across the pearly gates.
If there is Heaven, I can only hope it is a place where there is nothing but peace and love.
The echoes of gunshots cannot be heard in Heaven. There is no more blood, no more bullet holes.
Just tiny little children stolen from us far too soon showing nine others the only place where peace and love can coexist — a place where neither age, nor race, nor anything else matters. It’s a place where we are all the same — we are all one — and there is nothing but love for one another for as long as the clouds can be seen.
I am not the most spiritual person in the world (far from it) but on days like today — in the aftermath of another dark night turning into another dark day — I can only hope.
If there is a Heaven, I hope there is peace because there should be anger.
Nine more victims taken away from us, this time from inside a church, of all places; gunned down in the latest cowardly act of another madman with a gun.
Innocent victims. Mothers. Fathers. Brothers. Sisters.
There is no place on this earth where we are safe anymore. We learned that a long time ago.
Not in our schools — be it high schools or elementary schools. Not in our churches. Not on our college campus. Not in our police stations. Certainly not on our streets where even the good guys can become the bad guys in the moment it takes for a hair trigger to let loose an explosion that can change the world.
Only it doesn’t change the world. Not really. It never does.
All this killing, all this murder, and nothing changes the world.
Worlds are changed, certainly.
The parents of those who loved the fallen at Sandy Hook have been forever changed.
On a Wednesday night inside one of the most prestigious churches in the state of South Carolina, worlds were changed forever when a 21-year-old with a bad haircut and a dark, sad and blackened heart pulled out a gun and opened fire.
How can we pray again? We close our eyes and bow our heads and then can’t see the guns aimed at us?
Today we mourn. Again.
We always mourn when these things happen because, well, what else can we do?
We know nothing will change. Things should change, things have to change, but they won’t.
The people who are the strongest — the people who can make the changes — the people who are supposed to be our leaders are too weak to do so. Their hearts are as dark and as sad and as black as those who pull the trigger as far as I’m concerned.
We mourn today, but soon enough we’ll all turn political because that’s what happens.
The antiquated Second Amendment of the United States Constitution will be used a political toy with people steadfastly refusing to admit that 2015 is a world that 1776 could never have imagined.
I support the Second Amendment because I believe hunters should own the rifles they need to take part in their chosen sport. I support the Second Amendment because I believe Mr. and Mrs. John Q. Public have the right to own a hand gun to protect themselves and their loved ones to the evil in this world.
I even support the Second Amendment right of the collector who wants to own a musket — circa 1776 — because if they decided to walk into a school or a church and take out innocent lives using a musket, they will only get off one shot before being taken down.
Times have changed. We need to change.
We need these senseless mass killings to stop.
But they won’t because people are weak, our leaders are weak, human beings who think it won’t happen here are weak.
It happens here. It happens everywhere.
And when it happens again, if there is Heaven, Emilie Parker and her 19 friends will greet the next group of murdered innocents, bringing them home to a place where peace and love are the only things that count.
If there is a Heaven, that is.