Micah and Jett,
Too frequently lately, violent atrocities at a national level have me thinking of what needs to be conveyed to you, both verbally, and as a physical example. Today, a series of explosions near the finish line of the Boston Marathon caused mass injuries, and a few innocent bystanders tragically lost their lives. I find myself struggling to cling desperately to a promise I’ve had to make to myself since the first day I was capable of introspection.
I will not be a cynic.
Even though cowards keep attempting to take life on a mass scale in America over the last 20 years- Oklahoma City. Atlanta. Littleton. Aurora. Tucson. Fort Hood. Blacksburg. Newtown. Boston. I will not be a cynic.
Even though a portion of the public claims solidarity with the victims so they may accept sympathy without making any offering or sacrifice, I will not be a cynic.
Even though there are those who lie in wait to capitalize on tragedies by starting a fake charity, or to reveal long-held prejudice by prematurely blaming a party or race, or to push legislation on a shell-shocked population, or to pedal conspiracy theories to those who long ago became distrustful and disillusioned, I will not be a cynic.
Even though corporations, with the knowledge that people will be glued to media channels and websites, will fall all over each other to buy up ad-space in an attempt to sell you a mid-size sedan in your moments of fear and insecurity, I will not be a cynic.
Even though our collective focus will naturally shift to blame, where it will reside for far longer than the glorious moments we spent in unity and prayer, I will not be a cynic.
At least, I will TRY to not be a cynic.
I believe in the struggle against the empirical evidence that naturally brings about cynicism as a protective layer against the pain of accepting that we’re a broken people in a broken place.
I believe with all my heart that we owe it to a God, whom loves and has a plan for us despite all our efforts toward dissonance, to avoid the crippling surrender to negativity and fear. We owe it to ourselves to make investments in hope and happiness in the short time we’re in each other’s lives. I owe it to you as a father to dismiss every failure I’ve acquired and absorbed from my conscience and allow you to have failures of your own.
Please know, that if I ever slip in this uphill battle to remain hopeful when tragedy after tragedy removes the ability to hope from those around us, that the burden falls to you, and I believe it’s a burden that you can carry. I have hope for you, because right now, I refuse to be a cynic.