This is Not the Future I Imagined

This is Not the Future I Imagined

My office had an active shooter seminar last week. We sat in our training room listening to a man from the department of homeland security tell about ways to react and protect yourself during an active threat situation.

Be it a shooter, a car attack, natural disaster, etc.

Run, hide, fight.

Not in that order but however the need may arise.

This is the reality of our lives.

We are somehow in danger no matter if we are alone or in a big group.

If we are at work, at school, at church, at the movies, shopping enjoying a concert, dancing, we could be attacked. Why?

Because someone had a grievance.

With you?

Maybe, maybe not.

With someone like you. With someone you know with the idea of someone, with everyone and no one. They are upset and therefore you are in danger.

This morning I drove to work and traffic was heavier than it is at the hour I usually drive. I texted my boss telling her I’d be there soon, I was going to teach a class about the department we manage.

When I arrived the area surrounding my office building was swarming with police cars. There was no parking, a garage had been shut down and we were all being directed to the big seven-story garage.

There’d been a stabbing earlier in the morning. An argument between two men led to one of them being so aggravated he stabbed the other multiple times leaving him in critical condition.

I have grown up in chicago, a city infamous for violence and death, I’ve grown up watching shooting after mass shooting happen across the country and the shock I should’ve felt was brief and replaced with a feeling of inconvenience and that scared me.

What is happening around us?

What is happening to me?

Later I thought about this man, as I recounted the tale and the gravity of it hit me.

We are not safe.

I don’t mean that. Well, I don’t know anymore. I try to believe that I am usually safe, but I don’t think anyone who’s been murdered woke up thinking that they were going to die. They woke up believing like most of us do that they’d go through their day like normal, safe and sound.

All I can think, as I put on my shoes to go walk my dog tonight is that I will trust in the Lord to keep me safe and I will continue to be mindful of my surroundings because I really don’t know what else I can do.

Travels with Jenny

Travels with Jenny

I love to drive.

When you’ve been driving for most of your life the car becomes a natural extension of your body and controlling it becomes effortless.

I love to drive.

But I don’t mean driving around the crowded and congested streets and expressways of Chicago. I mean driving across long expanses of highway taking me from city to city and state to state.

I love driving long distances and watching the terrain change from flat to hilly, from hilly to mountainous.

I love driving across huge bridges, crossing rivers and passing over valleys.

I love driving and  daydreaming about the men that laid down these roads. The people that connected our country from coast to coast.

And it boggles my mind to think that someone said, “man, this mountain is in the way, let me just cut through it.”

While driving I fall in love with the land of this humongous country and think of how crossing through one state is the equivalent of crossing through the whole of Europe.

I’m a romantic.

I’m in love with the idea of wide open spaces and Americana.

In a country founded by immigrants from around the world there is little culture that is uniquely American.

But I think of baseball and apple pie. Of fireworks and the stars and stripes. Of road trips and wanderlust. And I crave discovering the America that is just our own.

Not the America portrayed in movies and television. But the hidden America found in small towns off the beaten path.

I want to find the “America the beautiful.” The deserts and lush forests. The farmlands and the swamps. The beaches and canyons. And bask in the country my parents decided to leave their home for.

That is my goal.