The Cross of Firearms (Lent 1)

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There was a security breach. Somehow, a troubled young man with a gun was able to get into the building. Not long after the doors closed behind him, he pulled out the rapid firing weapon. Blood splashed against the walls. Screams echoed against the walls. Bodies kept hitting the floor. Though the response was fast…it was not fast enough. Seventeen people were dead. Countless others injured. As the nation mourned, politicians reminded the populace that there was nothing they could do.

 

What if it was the White House?

 

What if it was the US Capital?

 

What if it was those they loved?

 

What if it was something more than the news?

 

What if?

 

There was a security breach. Somehow, a troubled young man with a gun was able to get into the building. Not long after the doors closed behind him, he pulled out the rapid firing weapon. Blood splashed against the walls. Screams echoed against the walls. Bodies kept hitting the floor. Though the response was fast…it was not fast enough. Seventeen people were dead. Countless others injured. As the nation mourned, the politicians mourned too.

 

Stories change. Time grows. Stories stagnate. Time dies. Stories. Time.

 

We know better. We can be better. We.

 

 

There was a security breach. Somehow, a troubled young man almost got a gun. The doors to the mental health facility closed behind him. There was no gun. There was no blood. There were no screams. Bodies constantly swarmed to help him get better. The response was constant. Nobody was going to die. Nobody was going to get injured. Everyone was working toward life. As the nation grew healthier, politicians were shocked at how quickly gun control was transforming the nation.

 

Stories can change.

 

We can change.

 

Our nation does not have to be crucified on a cross of firearms.

 

Amen.

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