Real Tragedy

It occurs to me that, in an age of sensationalized news, we have no way of expressing the true level of grief that was experienced yesterday for a group of underprivileged people.

No -- I'm not talking about Tennessee fans. And while the "earth-shattering" news was breaking about their head coach leaving to be someone else's head coach, some other authentically earth-shaking news was breaking about the country of Haiti.

What words that carry any meaning and weight can describe this event? Seismic? I think that one was already used to describe both Pete Carroll's and Urban Meyer's news-worthy happenings already.

And the thing I've kept hearing the last 24 hours out of Knoxville, TN is about these "poor kids." Poor kids? The ones with incredible God-given talent, who've been given a free place to live, free food, a free chance to educate themselves, and on top of all that, an opportunity to go show off 12 times a year in front of tens of thousands of fans who worship them with such intensity that they wouldn't mind if the players robbed them at gunpoint (or, at least this guy wouldn't). If by any definition those are poor kids, I'm not sure I want to live in that world.

Unimaginable Loss

Haiti's Prime Minister estimates that the loss of life is over 100,000 in their country. How many ACTUALLY poor kids will be without a Mama, or a Daddy, or both?

See, I think that in this era of sensationalized news, we're desensitized to events that should actually rouse our senses.

I put it in these terms. I lost my Mom almost 2 years ago. I estimate that it took me about 6 months to recover from that -- in terms of feeling normal again. I've been invited from time to time to observe and comfort others when they lost people they loved dearly. Still, those experiences have been typically brief.

(Incidentally one of those, a friend from HS, is blogging about her experience. I heard from some of you -- even then complete strangers -- about how you appreciated the sentiments I expressed as I mourned, so you may enjoy her reflections as well. She lost her Dad on Christmas Day. Her name is Emily.)

So I had my loss, and I've empathized with others through their losses. But I don't think I have the ability to register the silencing of a hundred thousand voices. I can't fathom that weight of grief that is rising up to Heaven right now.

And in this linguistic context, I certainly don't have the words to put this sudden loss of life into perspective. All the words are being held captive by ESPN.

(In the interest of full disclosure, I am reading "The Shack," and it may be fully impossible for me to be anything but gloomy and pessimistic right now. Still. We should be sensitive to this Haiti thing. Even if the culture around us is a force at work to desensitize us, we need to rise above.)