We Remember Aurora ~Three Years & 165 Counts of Guilty Later

As we waited for the vigil to get underway I stood behind the young lady and young man confined to their wheel chairs- dressed to perfection but dressed by someone else. My imagination could only construct some comic book scene of how it went down in that dark theater three years ago. Like BOOM. Maybe POW.  My mind couldn't do its horror justice. As the straps held him in from the chest, a straw at his mouth and his catheter bag to his right- my heart broke. As she spoke to those around her, bound on top of that thrown of heavy double wheeled reminder of her night at the movies. That could be me my son. That could be my daughter. That could be me.   How could this one person have caused SO much pain? Loss? Devastation?  My mind went to the depths of humanity and sadly to the power of evil and its incomprehensible grip when its wrath is unleashed with a fury. I wept, I ached, I asked 'why?'

The framed illuminated faces of the twelve lost,  the image of a baby stroller for the unfaced unborn child who was also taken,  made for thirteen and stood before each lively tree planted in their honor last year. Thirteen lives. Thirteen beginnings with thirteen endings. This evil took their heart beats pulse. This evil halted their blood flow vein by vein. This evil took their breath in but ultimately out. This evil took their future,  at least here on earth. No more new memories to be made. But OH how this evil couldn't take their life's memory. OH how this evil couldn't take their soul. OH how this evil couldn't take the impact on eternity in our world and hearts.

As I wallowed in the heated pain of this despair, all of the sudden-a light.  No it wasn't the lighting of the small white candles around me, but it was a light opening like a little window of God answering my question. Illuminated was both their faces as they chatted and talked and began to laugh and carry on as they waited too. Normal. Everyday. As any two friends would carry on. Her smiles to her family as they spoke and giggled- they weren't canned or staged, as they hadn't been focused on yet or put on a stage at all. Just waiting, passing time-like me.  The noise around me froze and all that was being shown to me was this whisper stating "this evil couldn't take their joy. Look! they smile and laugh and carry on too- there are moments of normal. Moments of happy. This evil has not won, however it may appear'  Their lives are unbelievably hard. The hours a day of pain and torment. Where the mind can see, the body won't deliver. Where the world must serve them when all they want to do is serve themselves. Basic daily functions become battles in and of themselves. YET GOD SPOKE: "DEVIL! You CANT take their JOY...you JUST CANT"....the verse 'touch not my anointed' came to mind.

Our church community planted living growing moving trees in Hope Park last year.  Just as their lives were living growing imprints on history. No marble statues- cold hard and immovable. These limbs reach out to the heavens and proclaim God's glory. These roots bury themselves deeper and deeper taking a stronghold under the earth for strength and growth. Their trunks stand firm and strong, no matter how forceful the winds may blow. They will weather the spring storms of Colorado, the brutal freezes of winter, the blazing sun of summer and the loss of needles in fall. But so will they bask in the warm sunsets, the cool breezes, the quiet chill and the new growth cones from rain may lead to a new generation. These trees will stand as the perfect representation of the memory and struggle these thirteen faced.

We remember three years later and were given a verdict of GUILTY on all 165 counts. As 165 counts was enough. There are 165 counts of pain every hour, every day for those that lived through that horror after the loss.  He wasn't considered insane. He knew what he was doing. He failed crazy tests. He gave no emotion. Maybe he was a lovely child or had a spark of love somewhere in his life. But somewhere somehow he ignored the 'energy' felt at the vigil. He denied the presence of God and the guidance of the Holy Spirit. He acted on his own, with attention to his own selfish desires of hate, death and destruction. We can only hope that sometime in the depths of his soul,  in his lonely cell or before his immanent death- HOPEFULLY. HE. WILL. REPENT....but even if he doesn't life and joy and love and memories will outlive his hate. Evil Loses. Gavel Slam.