It Matters

When my sister first told me there had been a terrorist attack, my first thought was, Where? But you know, it wasn’t Where in the world? but it was What part of the United States was attacked?

For some reason, I hadn’t thought about how terrorists will attack anywhere, I know Muslims hate America, so why bother attacking somewhere else?

My heart broke when my sister told me what had happened, how many were dead and wounded. I kept praying for France, God, be with them, I thought, unable to think of anything else.

When my sister came to tell me, I was thinking about our plans for the day, we were going to go shopping. But afterwards? It didn’t seem important.

When there is a terrorist attack, it shouldn’t matter Where in the United States it shouldn’t even matter where in the world because it doesn’t matter where.

It matters that it happened.

It matters that innocent lives were killed in brutal ways.

It matters because every single person who was killed had a life. Had loved ones. A job. A plan. They had hopes and dreams. They had likes and dislikes.

It matters because they all are humans.

In the United States, and even in different parts of the world, people are remembering what happened in France. They are trying, each in their own way, to honor the dead, or help the survivors in anyway they can.

But how long will they remember?

I keep thinking about when the Twin Towers were knocked down. I don’t remember that actually happening, but it was recent enough that I grew up hearing about it, knowing that it happened, and now? Those French people, all the ones alive now, and all the ones alive for generations to come will know what happened.

Five, ten, fifteen years down the road, the French are going to look back at what happened and remember. It isn’t a weekend of, “France needs our prayers” but it is their history– a history they are still painfully close too.

So pray for France.

Because it matters.


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