Friday, February 20, 2009

Behind the cold piece of steel

I found a new way to relieve my stress on Wednesday: I picked up a Glock 22 and 35 and commenced to firing.
Yes, seminary has driven me to pick up the cold steel of a firearm. All the tension it brings and frustrations of classwork that I can't seem to grasp left my body and flew straight toward my target. He got it four times to the head, once to the neck and a few to the chest area.
And that was the first time I ever shot. My target was definitely dead.
My frustrations, my anger and depression I found myself under were definitely dead . . .at least for a day.

This was my first excursion to the firing range, at least for the purpose of learning about gun safety and usage. I figure if I ever find myself in a situation that requires I use the weapon for my safety, at least I'll have some knowledge of how it works. The trip was one that I had added to my list of 100 things that I wanted to accomplish in my lifetime and so when my cop and seminary friend offered to take a few of us girls -- we're now dubbed the newer, prettier version of Charlie's angels -- I hopped at the chance to go.

The firing, while scary, felt good. Kinda. I had a mix of emotions. Funny thing happened. As I stood behind the firing line with my arm extended out and my Glock aimed toward my target and started to think about how powerful I felt and how I "could get used to this feeling," the Lord spoke. And in a quiet still voice he said, "You should never be comfortable behind the back of that gun.There should always be a feeling of discontent."

I thought about that. And as I pulled the trigger to see the bullet escape the chamber causing a mini volcanic explosion, I thought about the many young brothers on the street who have become comfortable being behind the arm of that weapon. At that moment, I gained more of a reverence for the power that I was wielding. At that moment, it became very real that I could take a life -- decimate one with a simple pull and "Click". Just like I had taken my anger and frustration and killed off the demons I had been battling for the past few weeks.

In those moments I stood between the stalls of the firing range, I became aware of others who hurt and have no way to express themselves than through the cold steel of a piece like the Glock I held. And I silently weeped for them because no one saw their pain. I was reminded of how desensitized we have become to the suffering of others around us. And it was in that moment I prayed for eyes to be opened to pain other than our own.

1 comment:

Tony OH said...

By the blood of Christ, we're gonna rebuke that firearm and replace it with your Holy Sword...lol
I'm glad that you were able to release some stress though. I love your writing style, so I added you to my blogroll and will check in daily for your writings. May God continue to utilize you to magnify his Kingdom. Stay up love.

Tony