Last night at 7:30 more than 12 shots were fired before the shooter hit his target. A mother lost her son, an aunt lost her nephew and revenge was served in a neighborhood where children play in front yards. My children.
Two weeks ago there was a shooting at WIPC- the psych hospital connected to Presbyterian Hospital- where I spend every Friday night on the 3rd floor. Last week the shooting that created last night's retaliation was 3 blocks away- last night's was across the street.
I do not know how to process, so I write. I am afraid and sad. After three months I already love this neighborhood. Before we moved here we committed to this city. We knew that East Liberty wasn't as "safe" as State College, but most places aren't.
I pray every night over Purslane and Knox that I would trust that God loves them more than I do. I pray for wisdom and patience to be their Mama and try to remember that I accepted God's covenant over them when I baptized them. I think I have also admitted on this blog that under my breath I beg that He would never really ask me to fully let go of them.
But both of the shootings in our neighborhood happened during times when we could have been out for a walk. Last week we were walking at the exact time and place where a young man died last night. I am not in control. I am being asked to fully let go and trust that God called us here.
And I don't want to. I want a guarantee from God that if I read the Bible to Pursy every night and take them to church and Bible Study and love Grant and serve the church and cook meals for homeless men that He will protect us. But I am too reformed to say that out loud- I know that all I can do is say the prayer I say every night and believe it.
God, please help me to believe that You love my children more than I do.