Rage Burns Buildings. Faith Burns Candles

Somewhere around ten years after my husband was murdered, and 7 years since his killer smiled at me as he was set free, I sat down for an audit of sorts. I wanted to unpack everything I had been through, analyze how I had met each challenge, identify what I’m glad I did and what I wish I’d done differently.

From there, I peeled back even deeper layers.

I still do this periodically. Sometimes I sit down to speak with the kind of friend I know will give me a no B.S. opinion. Every now and then I find a professional counselor.

It is always a brutal but refreshing process. How can I appreciate the full view if I don’t sweat my ass off climbing that mountain, right?

One such session, in particular, left me with feedback that branded itself into my soul, in a way. It is something I try to live up to today, and which I see played out daily on a national and global stage.

This person worked with hundreds of people who’ve experienced trauma and grief. She is a keen observer of how different people respond to such experiences. She is also a friend of mine.

She knew my story. She spoke to people who knew me. I filled her in on all the ups and downs that were less public. She told me this:

Millions of people experience trauma and grief. Some use it as an excuse to be mean, others use it as an opportunity to step into courage and faith.

She told me from all she knew about me, I had never been mean even in my worst days. Was I perfect? Absolutely not. Did I handle myself with pure grace?

Nope.

But for all my flaws and stumbles and cringeworthy moments, my intent, at least, was pure.

That shot right through me in the best of ways.

I am the first to admit I am a profoundly flawed person. I have said and done things that hurt people. I have my vices. I have made a giant jackass of myself in very public ways. I have dragged my kids through extra stages of trauma through my own relationships and decisions.

It doesn’t matter to me that my intent is always pure. If the outcome of my behavior causes harm to myself or others, I feel terrible. I strive to make amends. I do my best to never repeat that same mistake.

I don’t believe my own pain and loss serve as a premise to harm others.

I have met a lot of people who have experienced pain and trauma on unimaginable levels. Some emerge as leaders in grace, courage, and faith. Others reveal darker sides of themselves.

And that is where the difference lies, as well, in America.

One part of America responds to events they don’t like by burning buildings, destroying statues, assaulting innocent people, vandalizing businesses, issuing death threats or wishing death upon those who disagree with them, and is absolutely at peace with severing all ties with anyone who dares object or question those behaviors.

That part of America, for four years, was celebrated, given blank checks on their behavior, and hailed as courageous in the media and by the most outspoken Democratic representatives. Indeed, many talking heads on multiple platforms encouraged more of this behavior. It became the norm to display props depicting the severed head of Trump, to denounce those of us who refused the shot as “grandma killers” - even when the NY governor’s actions directly led to the deaths of actual grandparents.

That part of America shrugged off rioters chaining police stations closed and setting them on fire with people inside, thought nothing of statues being toppled and labeling people they’d known all their lives as “racists”, or this or that kind of “…phobe.” It denied people access to their business without proof of being vaccinated. It replied “Well, people have felt oppressed for so long, or they are so scared of this or that… what did you expect to happen?”

The other part of America responds to events they don’t like by praying on sidewalks, lighting candles, inviting respectful debate, and firmly refusing to yield their own rights to make decisions for themselves and their families, while not begrudging others the right to o the same.

Live and let live, so to speak.

Yes there are outliers on both sides. No not every Democrat is behaving like a monster and not every Conservative is behaving with grace.

The prevailing messages and examples being set, however, mark a stark contrast.

One side holds a criminal up as a martyr, using his tragic death as cause to incite and inflict unspeakable terrors down upon our country.

The other holds an innocent, law-abiding, pillar of his family and community up as a martyr, responding to his tragic murder with candle light vigils, prayers, and calls to lean into faith and forgiveness.

The two sides are not the same.

I might lose subscribers for saying this. That’s unfortunate- I’d much rather share your response with this community, than close the door on dialogue.

Had I not traveled my own road through trauma and grief - had I not been tested over and over again, and fallen so short, I may be calling for retribution, myself.

So while I can’t bring myself to say I’m glad to have been through all I have, I can say that I am grateful for learning the difference between hope and hate.