I Got To Leave

This morning, I walked into Woodlawn High School for my DISCO tutoring appointment. As soon as I ascended the main stair case, I was met with a hall monitor, who matched my gaze and then directed me through the metal detector. I checked in at the front office, where sat a row of antsy-looking students and a crowd of school administrators. I walked down the hall, down the stairs, and around the corner to Ms. Walker's room, before I met with another monitor who took my name, questioning my purpose for being there.

Admittedly, I was a little annoyed.

In my Young Life days, I was oft-mistaken for a high school student-- once, almost taken to the principal's office for a dress code violation before I found my voice to say, "Wait! I don't go here."

So, today, I didn't think too much of the questioning glances. Until.

I saw Ms. Walker's eyes. "There's been a gunman here," she blurted out. "We're on lockdown, and I'm scared." There would be no tutoring today, I should just go home. Be careful, and go home.

So, with trepidation in my step, I thanked her, allowed her to escort me past the posted guard and scooted out to my car again. I got to leave. But, they had to stay. Ms. Walker, a school full of innocents, a staff of teachers and administrators. I got to exit to return to my safe living room couch, but they are there, sitting anxiously in hard plastic chairs.

I'm here, safe and warm. They are there, wondering and waiting if the angry gun-holder will return for vengeance.

I feel powerless to help, incapable of understanding. But, I know that I can pray God's peace and protection over His children in those halls. I can ask you to join with me now, too, as you sit safe.