I don’t care about a lot of things that the media tells me I should. For instance, I really don’t care about Tom and Katie’s divorce—at least I don’t care any more or less than I do when I learn of anyone getting a divorce, because I know from experience that there will always be pain and sadness surrounding it. I care about that. That’s a shame. Especially when children are involved. But it’s not news. It’s not information that I find in any way useful.

Putting aside such tabloidal inflammations, I also don’t care what’s in Mitt Romney’s tax returns. Maybe I should—but I’m certain I can already imagine the type of information contained therein, and its implications. I suppose it’s possible that there are people out there whose opinions of Governor Romney might actually change based upon what’s in those documents, but I’m not one of them. I do care about his staunch refusal to release them—especially when you factor in the energy he’s spent in the past badgering other people to release theirs. I care about the secrecy that he has displayed throughout his career. That troubles me. I was troubled by the secrecy of the Bush-Cheney years, so I am more than a little unnerved by the Governor’s arrogance in this matter.

Moving on…

I also don’t care that Dan Cathy is against gay people marrying one another.  I disagree with him—but I don’t care what he thinks privately or what he says publicly. I do care, however, that any money I might put into his coffers by patronizing his restaurants might end up funding organizations dead-set on outlawing such marriages—so he won’t hold my custom. I don’t care that some folks are whining about his “first amendments rights” in response to such a boycott—because his first amendment rights are not infringed upon when I refuse to give him my business, or if I discourage others from giving him theirs. However, I do care that there are some city governments that are actually trying to prevent him from doing business because of his public statements—as that absolutely calls his first amendments rights into question. I care that someone whose opinion is aligned with mine on the matter of Gay Rights would carry it to that extreme. That is the kind of behavior that inspires those who disagree with me to start using language like “We’re taking our country back;” because, to many of those same folks, their first (and only) remedy in defending their first amendment is the second. And that also unnerves me. A lot.

So…whatever. I guess I do care.

   …But I do.  Today that’s exactly what I want to do.  I want to drive around in an aluminum cube van with Jesse Pinkman’s huge freaking magnet and whisk away your fully and semi-automatic weapons.  And you know what?  If this happens to cause one of your 30-round magazines to rip through a portion of your soft tissue as it hurtles toward the truck, I’m actually okay with that.

I realize this is very, very wrong of me.  As a follower of Christ this is a shameful feeling for me to indulge secretly, much less pronounce publicly.  I am commanded to love my enemies.  I am supposed to show love to those who want to harm my loved ones and me–not to mention those with whom I simply disagree.  And yet I still don’t care.  I am angry.  I am bitterly saddened by the stupid and horrific event that took place early this morning in Denver, Colorado.  I understand that many people were able to escape when the gunman paused to reload.  The “arms” that our constitution’s framers were referring to needed to be reloaded after each shot.  In their day, this berserker would have gotten off one round and then my arthritic 89-year-old mother would have had time to tackle him and split his jaw open on the back of a theater seat before he could have even dropped the little ball into the barrel.  So those of you who scream and shout about your second amendment rights—this is, essentially, what you are defending: Children being shot because they wanted to see the new Batman movie.

I’m sorry.  God please forgive me.  I imagine I may be a little less angry tomorrow.