Hatred will not have the final word.

I woke up this morning at 4 am. I couldn't sleep. I didn't sleep. I think it's because my heart is heavy. And I kept having mini dreams that I was experiencing mourning for so many people. People that I didn't know. People I would never know. The police officer's wife. His little girl. The mother of the bomber. The sister of the missing college student. The man who lost both of his legs. The 12 families who are missing a loved one in Texas.

Tragedy. That word. Suffering. Grief. Sadness. Catastrophe. Loss. That word.

Why is it when tragedy hits so far away from home, I feel as if it is in my own backyard?

It happens so often, and I have such a hard time dealing with it. I don't really show or tell people all that much. I don't know why. I should. But I don't. I guess I disconnect myself with those emotions outside of my bedroom, because maybe, just maybe, if I don't show it, it won't happen to me.

I am 21 years old. I have lived for only twenty one years. And yet I feel as if I have seen so much tragedy in my young life. I remember the Unabomber, or at least talking about it. I was five. I was scared to go to school in second grade because of the Columbine Massacre. I cried for days after 9/11. And the tragedy at Sandy Hook Elementary left me numb. All of the events this week have left me numb again.

But I think I hit a turning point last night. My good friend Dallan invited me to watch a play on campus. The Women of Lockerbie, it is called. A tragedy written by Deborah Brevoort. The play is a historical dramatization of the aftermath of the Lockerbie bombing of 1988. A powerful dramatization.

I cried. I felt sorrow and pain. I briefly mourned for the fictional characters with a true story. I connected their story with the people suffering today. And instead of numb, I became responsive. The theme of the play is powerful.

“When evil comes into the world, it is the job of the witness to turn it to love.”

This is what I have thought about since 4 AM.

Choose love over hatred. Change hatred into love. I've witnessed so much tragedy in last 21 years. And it is my our responsibility to choose love over hatred. To help repair the damage and heal the broken hearts. To serve one another. To remember the lives of those who died. To find the strength to do what we must do. Of course I will never know what it feels like to lose someone I love so dearly in such a tragic way. I have never had to pick of the pieces of my life and start over. I want to make it clear that I don't equate my trials to such tragedy. They are different for me than they are for anyone. But let me also be clear that I have a responsibility to make sure that "hatred will not have the final word." As Olive Allison in the Women of Lockerbie made sure that hatred did not have the final word. Love is stronger than the bonds of hate and bitterness. And because I have witnessed the pain of other, even from across the country, I have a responsibility to love.

We all have our reasons to choose love over hatred.

I choose love over hatred because I know my Heavenly Father loves me and loves all of his children.  I choose love over hatred because the person next to me is my brother or my sister. I choose love over hatred because people take care of me when I am weak. I choose love over hatred because I have been blessed with a loving family, and they have taught me to choose love. I choose love over hatred because I am human, and I am connected with each human on this planet. I choose love over hatred because hatred will not have the final word.

Tragedy will always occur. But love will always abide. So in my therapeutic efforts to mourn for those who are dealing with that word, I ask you to love. To serve. To be kind to one another. To put forth any and every effort you can to make sure that hatred does not have the final word.