A Man Greatly Missed

He smelled like cavicide and WD-40. He could fix anything with a Dremel and some duct tape (including your teeth if the need arose). He incessantly chewed ice out of his white styrofoam cups (which at times might have been filled with a little vodka and orange juice). He ordered his food "extra burnt" and his chocolate milkshakes "triple chocolatey". He'd make me laugh so hard I'd have tears streaming down my face. He carried me when I couldn't walk, and held my hand while letting me run him crazy. I still remember how peaceful it felt to lay on his chest and count the wrinkles around his eyes. He didn't have a super hero's cape, he wore white undershirts and worn out loafers... But my daddy somehow managed to always save my day. There was never enough time in his day, yet he always had all the time in the world for me. I was a bit of a mistake, but he always called me his miracle. There were days I watched the world beat him up and down and all around... But somehow he always found the strength to let me fall into his arms and collapse into him. He carried the weight of my world on his shoulders and I don't think he ever once complained about how weighed down he was. I don't know how he was so many things to so many people, but he always did it all with a grin on his face and a mischievous look in his eyes. I learned to see the world perched on his shoulders, but he instilled a humility in me that's kept me grounded for life. He always made it okay to let him down, but never seemed to accept that it was okay to let me down. On days like this I miss him with such an ache it feels like my heart might crack in two.... But I know one day I'll melt into his arms and he'll give me one his famous bear hugs again. And I know I'm not the only one feeling this longing for the man that was Dow Bryan today... He was all kinds of wonderful to all his little girls, all five of his angels. We miss and love you, and I know you're missing and still loving all of us, Daddy. Happy Father's Day to one hell of a Dad.

These Pivotal (and Enlightening) Moments

I choose not to watch the news based on the principal that I have enough negativity in my life as it is. Tonight my phone started going crazy with text messages and all my friends' and family's Facebook posts rejoicing over the fact that Osama bin Laden has been officially pronounced dead... And that was how I first heard the news. My initial reaction was Hallelujah!!!! I felt an immediate rush of calming resolution in my spirit. And for a brief moment, my mind raced with all the implications of what his death means for so many. It means that tonight there are mothers, fathers, wives, husbands, and children who finally have a sense of closure. It means that wounds that have been left open and festering for the past decade can finally begin to heal. It means that wars that should have never been started in the first place can finally begin to cease. And it means validation for the deaths of countless numbers of soldiers in both our country, and those of our allies, across the world. His death means hope... for so very many. 

Which brings me to the flip side of my rejoicings. Thoughts began to work their way into my overly analytical mind and negate the momentary happiness I was experiencing. Thoughts which caused my spirit to cry out in pain over the fact that mankind has been taken to such a devastating place in history. A place where death of any kind is ever celebrated. How did we get here? How did we reach this moment in time where we so easily react to the loss of another human being with thanksgiving in our hearts? 

My heart is saddened tonight. Saddened over that which never had to be. It never had to be this way for Osama bin Laden. It never had to be this way for the innocent people who's lives were taken before their intended time. It never had to be this way for those of us left to deal with these conflicting emotions. It was never meant to be this way from the beginning. This wasn't what God intended, for any of us.

So please excuse my confusion for a moment as I allow myself to grieve over the loss of a horrible man. Please do not get impatient with me as I struggle to feel excitement over a monster's death. Please refrain from gathering the people and the torches in my honor as I attempt to gather my thoughts and figure out where I stand right now. Please do not accuse me of being unpatriotic, or try to convince me that I am not being true to my country or my people.

Because these things are just not true. I'm simply a woman who realizes that I, too, have made some horrible mistakes (alot of them intentionally), and that never once have I truly received the punishment I so genuinely deserved for these trespasses. I have committed crimes against both man and God; I have stood firmly against both truth and honor; and yes, I too, have even murdered, in a vicarious way.

Because when you think about it, we are all guilty of these things. Even if only through our passive complacency when we turn a blind eye to the injustices in the world (or to the atrocities happening on our very own streets). Even if we are committing these wrongdoings by simply not screaming loud enough for the people in power to be forced to pay attention when we see children being forced into prostitution, slavery, and wars. When we know that women are beaten and starved and tortured daily for being who God created them to be, and we do nothing to stop it-- we too are as guilty as those who are actually hurting them. 

So tonight, I do two things which I never thought I would do. 

1.) I am allowing myself to enter into a place of gratitude over the fact that a man has been killed and is standing before God right now  while being forced to face all of the terrible things he's ever done. I am giving myself space to be happy over the fact that he is having to look at the souls of those people whose lives he took.... and the grief-stricken faces of those who were left behind in their absences.  I am allowing myself room to be ecstatic over the fact that he is going to receive his punishment of eternal damnation for what he has done to us all. 

And on the opposite end of the spectrum:

2.) I am reminding myself that it is also okay to be sad over these very same things. And no matter who agrees or disagrees with me, I pray that I never reach the place where I can experience pure joy over the death of any human being. True healing begins with forgiveness, which begins with me, in my heart... so I forgive you Osama. And I also ask you to forgive me for ever having looked at you with anything other than the very same love and compassion that God Himself feels when He looks at me... And that He felt when He looked at you.

I am extending and asking for this forgiveness for having been stingy with my grace over Osama because............
 Well, I guess it's because when all is said and done... It could have been me.... It could have been you.... It could have been any of us, really.... And tonight I realize how close of a call it really was.