Where Is Thy Sting?

Oh, Death, where is thy sting? For those left behind, it is everywhere. Because of my faith, I know that my loved ones are experiencing a glory that cannot be compared to the sufferings of this present time and for that, I have joy. However, for me, it is as though I own a mansion with many rooms and each time a person is gone, it is like a room gets permanently sealed off. The light will never come back on. The windows are shuttered and we can never go back and experience the joy we felt in that room and no new memories will be made in that room. My house has lost several rooms in the past few months and it keeps getting smaller! I just cried last Monday over the loss I experienced in April and - unexpectedly - and just last Thursday, another light was permanently extinguished, another door sealed off. If I didn't know God, know Christ, this would be too much for me to withstand. I now completely understand why there are hermits, and old recluses. They cut themselves off from everyone so they don't have to experience the pain of caring for, loving, enjoying someone's presence, only to have them gone without notice. It takes a piece of your heart away.
I would love to shield my children from this. I would love to just pack my family up and take them deep into the woods so that we don't have to see anyone, so that we can be distant from them and avoid the sorrow when it comes time to lose another loved one.

To my friends and family, I apologize that sometimes I don't communicate. It's so much easier to hear all the great things about someone at their funeral and think, "I wish I had gotten to know them better," and leave knowing a small nightlight is gone from your hallway, than to truly know and love how great they were and feel a chunk of your heart gone.
I understand that God has a plan for each of us, on Earth as well as in Heaven. I know He calls  people when they have fulfilled their purpose here, or when He can better use them in the spiritual realm, but why can't we still talk to them? Or at least why can't I talk to them? Why can't I send them a text message just to say, "Hey," and get a quick response back?
That's where faith comes in. It is the substance of things hoped for and the evidence of things not seen. Because of my faith, I know that I will see them again and it will feel like we just saw each other yesterday. Because of my faith, I will take time to grieve in order to release these emotions back to God, but I will know that I will get better, that I will go on. I know that my "mansion" will continue to have more rooms sealed off, but that more rooms will also be added, perhaps even another wing or two. :-)
It stings now, but these wounds will heal with the passage of time and for that, I am grateful and will continue to have joy and peace.

Can we move forward after being pushed 1,000 steps backward?

I have always believed that we should teach our children to have hope in humanity, that every person has some good within them, even if it is far below the surface. I have always believed that we should teach them that things will work together for the greater good and that, as time passes, the world will become a better place.  
In my mind, the promise of change seemed like a glowing object that was visible, just on the other side of the bridge. That was until July 13, 2013 when it was announced that George Zimmerman was found "not-guilty" of the murder of Trayvon Martin. I never believed the jury would find him guilty of murder, but knowing that there was a lesser charge on the table, I held out hope for Zimmerman to be found guilty of something. I guess that was just me being an optimist. After the announcement, I was crushed. As I got ready for church the next morning, I stopped and sobbed. The bridge I had been waiting to cross was no longer solid stone, cement, or steel, it had become a flimsy rope bridge across an impossibly wide canyon and the rope had just been hacked. We just fell off the cliff.
Where is my hope in humanity, in unity now? What do I tell my sons now? What do we tell our black boys now?
"Son, be sure not to run out of your 'whiteface' makeup before you leave the house. Also, don't forget your Justin Bieber wig. Always be prepared before walking down the street, my heart would break if you were to get shot. I love you, Son."

http://www.csmonitor.com/var/ezflow_site/storage/images/media/content/2012/3-23-12-trayvon-martin-rally-in-sanford-fla/12090991-1-eng-US/3-23-12-Trayvon-Martin-rally-in-Sanford-Fla_full_380.jpg

Is this what it has come to? When will we (blacks) be safe walking down the street? We've gone from fear of getting caught by the slave masters to fear of being caught by the lynch mob, to fear of walking in our own neighborhoods! Where do we go from here? When and where do we get to act like white people? When will the time come that we can simply wave to any police officer, or walk past the neighborhood watchman without being followed? When will we just look like we belong?
Maybe we need to revisit reparations. Can black folks get reservations like the Native Americans? Isn't there enough soil that contains our blood to at least set aside a state where all of us can live?/ I realize this idea is not politically correct, but I'm thinking about my kids. After all this time, after the end of slavery, the end of Jim Crow, the Civil Rights movement, a black president, shouldn't my sons truly be able to do and be whatever they want without worrying about being able to walk freely in their own neighborhood?
Well, shouldn't they?