America has an illness. Guns aren’t the problem. It’s the state of mind about guns that has been bastardized into fervor, gluttony and perversion.
There were two mass shootings today: one on a baseball field across the river from DC where congressional members were practicing in the early morning, and the second in San Francisco at a UPS where three victims and the shooter died. The second was less provocative because even though four people died, none were elected officials.
Now before emotions run high on second amendment arguments, please refrain. This article is not about that. It’s about the American psyche. An obsession.
Guns have perfectly good reasons for existing. It’s not about the second amendment which reads:
A well-regulated Militia, being necessary to the security of a free State, the right of the people to keep and bear Arms, shall not be infringed.
Constitutional scholars will argue over what a ‘militia’ is, or which ‘free state’ is referred to, or what is the definition of Arms. It doesn’t matter. Why? Because aside from having it tattooed on a forearm or hung on banner in a living room or mailed to a political candidate with second amendment remedies scrawled over it in a threatening manner — aside from all the bluster, aside from all the people speaking past each other —
ASIDE FROM ALL THE BULLSHIT
Americans are dying. Nowhere else on Earth…NOWHERE…outside of a war zone do people die at the rate they do in the U.S.
There have been 195 “mass shootings” (four or more victims)
in America so far
in 2017 alone.
I don’t care about the second amendment. I don’t care about arguing about it.
I don’t care about that, because I care about you.
I care because I know what it’s like to lose a family member to gun violence. It’s been thirty years this year, and the loss seems real every time one of these 195 shootings this year has taken place. I care about you – that you should never have to go through such a thing.
I care about those who will be victimized today, tomorrow and for the rest of this year and all those going forward.
So I wrote this simple prayer, for those who will die in America by gun violence.
For those of you who will die, I pray for you.
For the four-year old brother showing his two-year old sister the gun…I pray for you.
For the people in the park, playing soccer…I pray for you.
For that lost soul who can’t find the strength to carry on…I pray for you.
For the kids eating lunch when the bullied kid in the trench coat opens fire…I pray for you.
For the black kids on the corner falling down as the car drives by…I pray for you
For the children in the movie theater as the assault rifle fires…I pray for you.
For the students in class who duck under their desks too late…I pray for you.
For the workers who die when their co-worker comes back with a pistol…I pray for you.
For the woman who left….but is followed and hunted…I pray for you.
For the brown-skinned man at the wrong place at the wrong time…I pray for you.
For the cop who is ambushed at a traffic stop…I pray for you.
For the gun instructor who teaches the kid who doesn’t pay attention…I pray for you.
For all of you who don’t know it yet, but will be dead tomorrow…I pray for you
And for those left behind…asking why….never getting an answer…I pray for you.
I wish prayer worked like this,
but it doesn’t,
because tomorrow, or the next day, or next week,