In December 2014 and January 2015, we had the great ice storm, which made many of us homebound, and without power. Broken tree limbs littered yards. Neighbors came together to offer assistance in whatever way possible. Our neighbors offered us a place to stay, freezers to store our food in, and a place to do our laundry. We got a generator so we wouldn’t have to vacate our home and worry about our precious belongings. It was enough to power the heater, the fridge and a few lights. We had gas, so we could still use our gas cook top to provide food for ourselves. Our neighbors were kind, helpful, and they loved on us. For a week a community came together to help their neighbors.
In March 2015, we moved to a whole new town, the crime was getting bad in Odessa and no matter which side of town you lived on, it wasn’t good. During the two years we lived in our rental house Colby’s truck was broken into twice and stolen once. That sealed the deal. When we got the offer to move closer to Colby’s job, we took it. We have now lived in our new town for four and a half years.
Fast forward to August 31, 2019. That morning I went to a clothing party for my friend, I bought some stuff, we took some pictures, and we just enjoyed ourselves. That afternoon a friend of ours came over and brought Colby some Ham radio things he found in a house they purchased a few months ago. We visited for a while and talked about life, kids, family, our spouses, and everything else under the sun. I came back in the house, tried to relax, but then the news alerts started happening. Our friend was headed back to Odessa.
A gunman was on the loose in Odessa, driving around shooting innocent people and wreaking havoc and terror all over. He shot three law enforcement officers, killed seven people and wounded countless others. In the end he was also taken out. Innocent people were out that day as there’s plenty of shopping to do there. People were in car dealerships, driving down the road, investigating gun shots, and delivering the mail.
We lost someone we knew. He was someone that ran cameras at church when Colby and I attended a certain church in Odessa. He was a former math teacher and overall a great guy. He and his family were driving to have some family portraits done when the gunman pulled up next to them and shot him in front of his family. Colby asked me “I wonder how his wife is feeling.” At that time my only response was “Lost. She feels lost.” Today as I’m washing dishes it hits me. She not only feels lost. She wonders how she’s going to raise their kids alone. She’s scared herself because they were all in the car together when he was shot. She worries about what the death of their dad will do to them over time and how it will affect them. She worries she’ll never find love like she had before, even though she’s not looking. She worries about their finances and if they’ll make it without the help of family and friends. She wonders if she should move somewhere else so that they don’t have to pass that ugly place when they go somewhere, and she’ll do everything in her power to take the long way around just so they don’t have to pass it. She wonders when the right time is to take her kids to counseling and herself. She worries she won’t stay strong for her kids. She just worries. She doesn’t know when to pick up the pieces and move on or if she should just leave the pieces on the floor until she’s ready. She’s also worried about the loneliness that is to come when all of the people that have filled their home for the last week finally leave. And she prays.
She prays that her kids know how much their dad loved them. She prays that somehow they can find comfort and peace in this tragedy. She prays for a community in which she lives and other victims families. She prays for understanding. She prays for the men and women of law enforcement and fire department for the things they had to witness that day. She just prays. She posts the day after about how everyone needs prayers, and she wants everyone to go to church. She is selfless.
Last Tuesday we had to go to Midland for a Dr.’s appointment. I travelled down that very interstate where the shootings started. My heart was very heavy as I imagined the chaos and fear that those people experienced. I saw skid marks all over the place where people were trying to get off the roads. I saw pools of blood marked by orange paint, and the outlines of vehicles marked by the same paint. My heart hurts for those people. I didn’t have to go into that town, thankfully, but just imagining the chaos on the interstate was enough for me. Enough that each time I passed those orange markings, I cried out to God for those people to be ok. Yes, I could’ve taken a different route that would’ve taken me 30 minutes out of my way, to go and to get home, but I will not let fear overcome me. My God is greater than that fear. I told Colby that while I love Odessa and all it has to offer, I’m not ready to go back there and drive those very streets. My heart hurts for a community in which I was once a part of.
I also saw my dad on Tuesday where he begged me not to drive home on the interstate, I assured him we would be ok. He hugged me tightly several times and we parted ways. Hug your loved ones, tell them how much they mean to you, reconcile after a fight, tell them you love them, and never take for granted that they’ll be here tomorrow. Keep the Permian Basin in your prayers. They will overcome this in time, but for now your prayers are greatly appreciated. Remember that behind every victim in a crime lies a family that is hurting. They need your prayers too.
#WestTexasStrong #BasinStrong
No comments:
Post a Comment