When a big rock drops into the pond, it makes a lot of ripples.
Yesterday a very big rock dropped into the small pond that 23,000 or so of my friends and I call home. The ripples started big like shock waves with “active shooter” and “multiple fatalities” and the terrifying “suspect still at large.”
The ripples of fear radiated.
There were frantic calls and texts to account for loved ones and friends as the worst of our imaginations ran wild. So many thought instantly of their children and were quickly assured that the local schools were all locked down in wise precaution.
The ripples radiated on and on.
As the initial waves passed and more information became available, the waves began to settle. But fear often leaves a nasty hangover.
In small town Oklahoma, we expect stories like the one unfolding here today to be set in big cities out west or back east. But too many times over the last dozen years we’ve had to swallow the words, “That could never happen here.”
It did happen here. The reports confirmed a “double murder-suicide.”
I didn’t know these people. I know they were hurting, broken people because, in one way or another, we’re all hurting, broken people. And on this day one man’s hurt and brokenness boiled over into this tragic event.
But the ripples of fear keep rolling.
If it could happen in the parking lot where all of us have to go from time to time, it could happen to us or happen in front of us or we could get caught in the mess.
The truth is that it’s not any more likely to happen tomorrow than it was yesterday. But today we were faced with the cold reality that these kinds of things can happen here to our neighbors, our friends… us.
But there are some breakers to the ripples. There are those who refuse to let the ripples of fear roll over them.
There are the law enforcement and emergency responders who have sworn to rush in when fear says to rush out. They break the ripples by the bravery.
There are the educators that calmly engage their lockdown procedures to ensure the safety of our kids. They break the ripples by their calm preparedness.
There are the men and women—just everyday folks—who recognize this horrific event as the exception and not the rule in our mostly very peaceful home. They break the ripples by choking down the “what-ifs” and going on to do their jobs or buy their groceries or whatever they know needs to be done. They break the ripples by their steadfastness.
There are the people of deep faith who are convinced at the depth of their soul that there is a God and he is good and that these things do not disprove his existence but underscore our desperate need for his grace. They break the ripples by calling out to the God they know is listening—independently, collectively, earnestly asking for peace and calm and hope. They break the ripples by their faith.
There are so many things that jar us out of our comfortable delusions that we are safely insulated from these heart-shattering experiences. Since the day that Abel was murdered by his brother in a jealous rage, domestic violence has been an all-too-common part of human society. Those rocks of offense will continue to trigger these ripples through communities just like ours all around the world.
But what will we do with it? Will we determine to be breakers that face the ripples without being deterred in our bravery, our preparedness, our steadfastness, or our faith? Yes, let’s do that.
But what if we try to do more? What if we pay enough attention to our friends and neighbors and coworkers to recognize that the small stone they’ve been carrying suddenly seems to be getting a lot bigger? What if we strive to become the kind of neighbors that can be trusted to listen with compassion and help without condescension?
What if we do what we can to make mental health help available to everyone that needs it and crush the stigma that surrounds it? What if we were to live out that whole “love your neighbor as yourself” business to the point that we could come along and help someone put down their rock before they throw it in the pond?
There will always be ripples of fear in one form or another. What can we do to help break them?
Remember… “There is no fear in love, but perfect love casts out fear.” (1 John 4.18)
