I ‘hid’ in
the balcony Wednesday morning at 10:00 am for seventeen minutes. The sanctuary was dark
and if someone does walk through, you can usually go unnoticed if you’re off to
the side in the balcony. I set my alarm for 10:17. I just needed to be quiet
and to pray. I knew that students across the country were offering a variety of
acknowledgments about the horrific events in Florida last month. Whatever they
chose to do would last seventeen minutes; one for each person killed.
I thought of
the seventeen students and teachers who were killed last month in Florida;
thought of their parents, siblings, and friends….. and offered prayers of
comfort. Thought of the young man who shot them; offered a prayer for him. I
closed my eyes and visualized Maryville High School, Alcoa High School, William
Blount High School, and Heritage High School. I prayed for students and all of
the personnel. I prayed for children to feel safe where they are.
My mind
immediately went to September 11, 2001 and the questions my children asked when
they got home from school. Why didn’t you
pick us up? Lots of parents came to take their children home. I told them I
knew they were safe at school. My mind wandered to times when I could not find
my children (forgot they were going home with a friend; forgot there was an
extra rehearsal….). I thought of times when I wanted to be with my children but
could not.
I flinched
and scolded myself for letting my mind wander. I am supposed to be focusing on
the day’s events. I prayed for politicians who make laws to keep us safe. I
prayed for gun owners that they will be safe. And then my mind wandered again
to people who carry guns for their jobs. I offered prayers for police officers
and state troopers and soldiers. When I thought of soldiers, I thought of
children in faraway places for whom war is normal and who would give anything
to be able to attend school.
My mind
wandered again to teachers I had; prayers of thanksgiving for Miss Payne, Mrs.
Saxon, Mr. Markham and the PE teacher whose name I can’t remember (the short
one; not the mean one).
Because I
was in the balcony, my eyes roamed the pews thinking of the folks who seem so
far away each Sunday; but sitting up here “hiding” I felt a connection with
them. I looked over at the sound board and knew that John Rollins who had volunteered so many Sundays (and funerals, and weddings) lay in a coma at the
hospital. I prayed for John and all of the "balcony people."
Our custodian, Paul, walked through the sanctuary
without seeing me; he turned on the lights, lifted the lid on the piano, and
straightened hymnals. It was time to prepare for the noonday service. Prayers for all who would be coming.
I have fifteen more seconds ...
I have fifteen more seconds ...
Amen.
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