The Black Day
I've been putting this off all day.
Actually, it's been all weekend. I knew it was coming, but unlike the last two times, I didn't quite know what to say for this anniversary. I think the revulsion over this (and this, and this, and this) has put me into less of a sad-but-proud and more of a demoralized mood. Even this and this didn't lift the gloom for long.
They said they'd never forget. I haven't.
I fight the anger, and the hatred, and the boiling rage on so many days, and the Church says it'll eat me alive* - and sometimes I feel that it's doing just that. But I don't want to forgive in a suicidal way. I'm willing to die for the faith, but I'm sorry Lord, not like that. I need to find somewhere safe between forgiveness and Christian resolve against evil without tumbling into simple resignation to fate without hope. And that's a tough balancing act I just haven't worked out yet.
They said they'd never forget, but then they say I'm "perpetually indignant". I suppose I am. And maybe I'm mixing up my political indignation with my American indignation. But it's becoming increasingly hard for me to tell the difference.
I pray the good Lord gives me enough time to work all this out.
