Mass Shootings: Grief After Pulse, Buffalo & Uvalde

Day 1 or 3: We’re Still Here

“The LORD is my shepherd; I have all that I need. He lets me rest in green meadows; he leads me beside peaceful streams. He renews my strength. He guides me along right paths, bringing honor to his name. Even when I walk through the darkest valley, I will not be afraid for you are close beside me. Your rod and your staff protect and comfort me. You prepare a feast before me in the presence of my enemies. You honor me by anointing my head with oil. My cup overflows with blessings. Surely your goodness and unfailing love will pursue me all the days of my life, and I will live in the house of the LORD forever.”
– Psalm 23 (NLT)

Psalm 23 – often a passage quoted at funerals. Somehow used for comfort in the midst of tragedy and grief. I hope that it brings comfort to you today.

Grief is a strange thing. Somehow you feel so many emotions come rushing in at once…and yet time seems to come to a screeching halt. Everything moves in slow motion.

Most people remember exactly where they were on 9/11. In fact, it became a way to talk about the tragedy as a nation processed its grief. The Pulse shootings are like that for me, and probably for a majority of the LGBTQ community, I imagine. I remember where I was, what I was doing, what I was feeling.

The news came through on Twitter early Sunday morning. I woke up randomly at 5 am that day–like I had a feeling something was off. At that point, the reports were just coming in. I remember feeling like I could barely breathe and yet somehow managing to get out of bed that morning and go to church. But the world stopped for me that day. I can only imagine how much worse it was for families of victims and the queer community in Orlando.

You know who helped me process that grief? Others in my queer family who were also grieving. When tragedies affect an entire community, the wounds heal but they leave scars. Long after the media is on the scene, long after the photos of the aftermath show up online, long after they deliberate about why the killer did what he did and whether his religion mattered. The scars stay. You end up a different person than before the trauma.

Having experienced multiple traumatic life events, thanks to PTSD, I’m reliving all the feelings a year later as if it’s happening all over again. See, witnessing traumatic events can do that. Especially if they directly impact you and your community.

Some of you don’t know what this is like. Churches still don’t want to respond…other than to send “thoughts and prayers.” God damn it. You can have your thoughts and prayers. But the LGBTQ community can’t let it go. The families of the victims can’t let it go. The survivors of the shootings can’t let it go.

Because. this. could. happen. again. Nothing has changed to prevent something like this. We’re still fighting. We’re still here. There may have been brief remorse for the treatment of queer folks. But not enough. Not enough for Christian parents to love their queer kids and accept them for who they are.

We’re still out here. And we’re still being killed or destroying ourselves. A way we can honor the victims of the Pulse shooting is to do something. When is this enough for you to do something? We’re out here fighting not just for marriage rights. No. That was one step in a much bigger fight. For the right to exist as we are without getting murdered. For the right to love and be loved without death and assault being the result. For the right to be who we are without fearing for our safety.

And we still have God as our Shepherd to comfort us and the goodness and unfailing love of God around us. We are still here.

HL Holder-Brown

Day 1 or 3: We’re Still Here

Finish reading this 3 day devotional in the app. Find it on the Featured shelf.