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Thursday, October 3
I was busy finalizing my notes for a keynote dinner address to be given the following evening. I was pleased not to have to fly out for the weekend since the church was only 45 minutes away. My eyes kept glancing at the clock, as they do every weekday, since I must leave at 3:00 sharp to pick up Jordan from his Christian school 15 miles away. At 2:00 the phone rang and it was Jordan. He wanted to know if I heard the news. Since I do not watch TV during the week or listen to the radio except while driving, I had not heard any news. He informed me that five people had been shot and killed in Maryland and that a madman was on the loose. I informed him I would be prompt and reminded him of his strength and shield.
Friday, October 4
The morning paper reported a sixth person was shot the night before and that a pattern had been established. Some witnesses noticed a white van in the vicinity of the shootings. All were struck by a single bullet. All were going about daily routines. All were loved by family and friends. The names and faces and stories of all six victims were printed. The faces touched me, moved me, haunted me. More lives ended. More dreams crushed. More questions. More unanswered "whys." The faces…
The program analyst was leaving Shoppers Food Warehouse with groceries for a church event. The landscaper was mowing the lawn of an auto dealership, as he had for ten years. The cabdriver from India was fueling up to get home to celebrate his twenty-fifth wedding anniversary. The former law student was sitting on a bench reading a book, waiting for a ride to work. The nanny from Idaho was vacuuming her car. The handyman from Haiti stood at a corner while running errands. He cared for his invalid wife.
I tended to my own errands, chores, carpools—the usual "To Do List." At 5:00, I showered, dressed, grabbed my notes and my Bible and headed north on the Beltway toward Silver Spring, Maryland. I was well aware that four of the victims had resided in that town. The 45 minute drive took twice as long in rush hour and I had never noticed so many white vans in my life. Traffic crawled and my imagination sped. I used the time to make a few calls. One well-meaning relative suggested I "stay far away from Maryland where that nut is shooting people." I informed her that the banquet (which I agreed to attend 4 months earlier) was at a church in the middle of the trouble and that it was a privilege to bring words of hope and healing to the women there. Her sentiment was not quite similar.
I called the event coordinator to assure her I was making slow but steady progress. I told her I understood if the attendance was drastically affected in light of the events. She told me the events had caused the dinner to have overflow seating. It was record attendance.
When I finally arrived, the parking lot was full and I ended up behind the building which was sparsely lit. I took a deep breath, adjusted my lipstick, turned off my cell phone, grabbed my briefcase and had a mild heart attack as a white van slowly pulled up and the headlights shone on me. Two men were in it and I became one with the floor of my Durango. I said a brief prayer, ("OH JESUS!") and groped for my cell phone, which I failed to locate. The headlights remained on my vehicle for another 30 seconds and my heart rate accelerated with each one. The van drove away slowly and I sprinted to the entrance. Their speaker had finally arrived--the woman bearing the message of God’s faithfulness had entered the building. The Women’s Ministry Director greeted me as I spoke in a high, breathless pitch; arms flailing. I informed her that a white van was circling the parking lot. She hugged me and sighed and was quick to explain it was the "beefed up" church security van manned by husbands of committee women.
Saturday, October 5
I learned a woman had been shot in the back as she left a Michael’s craft store in Virginia. She did not die. I imagined she had bought items to make a home or classroom festive for the fall season. My 15 year old daughter Paris and I stopped at Toys R Us that afternoon for several gifts. It was in a shopping center next to a different Michael’s but I "quizzed" her on what she would do if the unthinkable were to happen. I reminded her of our citizenship in a timeless Kingdom and assured her that nothing could separate us from God or from one another.
Sunday, October 6
After church, we picked up fresh bagels and headed home. It was a rainy, dreary, sweats and jeans, stay inside day. The Sunday Washington Post detailed the shootings and the personal stories connected to each victim. More faces—more broken hearts.
Monday, October 7
Just after 8 am, a 13 year old boy was shot in the abdomen as he reached for the front door of his middle school. His concerned aunt didn’t want him taking the bus so she made the effort to personally drive him. She watched as he dropped to the ground. My son Jordan is 13. Every mother of every child within an hour of that school was on the phone that morning. Our county declared a Code Blue Alert. No walkers, no outdoor recess, no crossing guards, no after-school activities, no community sports.
Frank was out of town so I decided to treat the kids to a gourmet dinner at Wendy’s. We shared our thoughts and our fears and our faith. I reminded the children of our good and strong foundation in Christ. The two teenagers reminded me that several of the victims were substantial believers. I did not respond with quick, hollow, or pat explanations. When I tucked our 10 year old daughter Capri in, she informed me she has had a bad year. "First the Twin Towers, then the Pentagon, then the anthrax near our house, and now this." She hopes her 11th year will be much better.
I watched the 11:00 news and learned the vehicle in question is a white box truck. There are 14,000 of them in the D.C. metro area. A tarot card was found near the middle school with the message "I am God" written on it. Satan has been a pathetic imposter since Eve bit that apple. The boy who was gunned down by the sniper that morning is a well-liked honor roll student. The bullet entered his abdomen, traveled upward and lodged just below his heart. The doctors removed his spleen and parts of his stomach and pancreas. He is in critical condition and on a ventilator. God loves that boy.
Wednesday, October 9
An engineer who was widowed two years earlier after 27 years of marriage was killed at a gas station just 20 minutes from our home. His brother explained, "When Dean’s wife died, he could take one of two paths. He could be bitter and angry at the cruel loss or he could trust in God. Being a man of faith, he chose the latter." Now the extended family decided they would do the same. "You’ve got to decide whether you are going to be bitter and angry against God or you’re going to believe that God is big enough and strong enough and powerful enough that he knows what’s going on. We just have to trust the Lord. We are thankful for our time with Dean—we’ve been so privileged to know and love him."
Friday, October 11
I drove Capri to school at 9:15 and went straight to a local Exxon station to have our SUV inspected. I idled on line a while and by 10, I was waved into the garage and then out of the driver’s seat. In the waiting room, a special news bulletin came across the TV suspended from the wall. It stated that yet another victim had been felled. At 9:30 am, a man was shot while standing at the pump of an Exxon station in Virginia. I later learned that he was a father of six who had finished his business trip and was about to head home to Philadelphia for a restful weekend. His wife had just told him to be careful.
Saturday, October 12
Code Blue Alert continues. Capri’s soccer game has been cancelled this morning and the same goes for Jordan’s football game tonight. The children have described practice drills at school where the teacher barricades the door and they huddle under their desks. In ten days, ten innocent people have been shot. Eight have died and two are struggling.
I am a transplanted New Yorker living in the Washington suburbs. My heart was broken by the events of September 11 but this is very different. This brand of terrorism is daily, unpredictable, relentless, elusive, terrifying, brazen, indiscriminate. This feels like a hunt, a sadistic game, a test of our courage. Fear lurks just under our actions, thoughts and words. It’s a reasonable fear. One that causes you to look around more, to get in your car while the gas is pumping, to keep moving in open spaces. And for believers, it’s a fear that ultimately directs us to the sovereign plan and perfect provision of a loving God.
Monday, October 14
We picked pumpkins today and thanked God that Christopher Columbus believed in what he could not see. A sweet day turned sour when the newscaster announced that a woman was shot dead loading her Home Depot purchases into her car at 9:15 tonight. It was the first sniper shooting in the county where we live, just a couple of towns away. Nine dead.
Tuesday, October 15
As I write this, the sniper is still roaming and looking to devour. I know God can stop him and I also know God’s ways are higher than mine. I have many unanswered questions about what and why God "allows" and I am powerless in attaining answers. Now I see dimly, but one day, I will see clearly and understand the things that remain hidden on this side of heaven. Until that glorious day, I pray for courage, for resolve, for renewed passion, for an evangelical heart, and for bold conviction to say without flinching that, "For me, to live is Christ…and to die is gain." Scripture states that in the last days, hearts would faint with fear. That passage has become much clearer this past year. God help us to stand.
He will keep in perfect peace those who are steadfast and whose minds are set on Him.
Isaiah 26:3
