I offer my prayers and love to the families, co-victims and survivors of all of those killed and injured in the Parkland school shooting.

You don’t know what’s happening yet in Charleston. Go and help these people who lost their granddaddy, then get back to your office so you can start calling people. As soon as I returned to my office, I started making calls. I got through to my baby sister, Nadine, who lives in Charleston. She hadn’t heard anything, but she was going to go check it out: “I’m putting on some clothes and going down there to the church.” I called JonQuil. He told me, “Auntie, we down at the church but nobody’s letting us get close to the building.” His tone conveyed his concern. “They just keep saying something happened in the church. Maybe some shooting. We don’t know.” He said authorities were gathering family members at a nearby hotel. So while everybody was there, holding onto each other, I was in Dallas alone. I kept calling my nephew and my sisters, but the calls went to voicemail. Whatever was going on, I knew Momma would have been at church that evening. Every Wednesday there was a Bible study, and she made it her business to be there and make sure the church was ready. She opened the doors and was always one of the last people to leave that church—every night. My mother loved that church. As long as she was able to get out of her bed, Ethel Lance was gonna be at that church—you could count on it. One time she said to me, “For all the things that I might not have done right in my life, the more time I spend in this church, the more I get to talk to God and ask for forgiveness.” “Ma, I don’t think you did so many things wrong.” 

Join Shane Claiborne and Rev. Sharon Risher in Savannah, GA on June 4th for a Beating Guns event! 

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Even after days of watching, I could not tear myself away from the television. If I was awake, the TV was on. The day after the murders, the police arrested Dylan Roof—I hate to even acknowledge his name. The news outlets had been showing a video of him leaving the church. The next day a woman recognized him driving his car and called the police. He was taken to jail in North Charleston. Evil. The first time I saw him, saw his face, he personified evil to me. I was stunned by his youth, though. How did such a young boy get so much hate inside him? His eyes looked dead. That picture they showed of him with that little smirk on his face—I hate to see that picture because it represents pure evil to me. It’s gotten better for me as time has passed, but that look in his eyes is just haunting. I was captivated by the proceedings on television. Praise God! You are not gonna get away with this. They got you now. They got you now.

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My parents lived paycheck to paycheck, but I never really knew that as a kid. I never felt hungry or cold or poor. I just remember that we never seemed to have enough space. We had one bedroom for all the kids back then. The girls had to double up in bunk beds and our brother had a bed to himself. I shared my bed with Esther, and for a while Terrie had her own bed. Then, when Nadine was born, she slept in the bed with Terrie. That’s just how things were in those days, and I didn’t really mind, except that Esther was always peeing the damned bed! Later, we found out that she had a kidney problem, but all I knew back then was that I would wake up every morning with a peed-up damned bed.

We had a praying Momma who had a big heart and was always willing to help somebody else. Momma would always say, “Every man for himself, and God for us all.” She loved wearing fine perfumes and dancing to James Brown’s music. Momma was a no-nonsense kind of woman who had a very strict work ethic. She kept her home clean and spotless. On special occasions, when we got dressed up in our Sunday clothes, Momma would spray us with one of her perfumes. Then she would hide the bottle, because she knew, given the chance, we’d be spraying it all over the place. Oh, she loved her perfumes! One time when I was a little bit older, I bought her a fragrance at Edward’s Five and Dime store. It was “eau de something.” I was really proud of buying that bottle of perfume with my own money, which I had earned from running errands for the neighborhood ladies.

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Life has given me challenges and failures, good times and bad times. Along my journey I have known feelings of hopelessness, shame, guilt, and unworthiness. Sometimes I have replayed old tapes of toxicity in my mind and plunged into darkness, wallowing in all things negative. Yet, inside I knew, Sharon, you’re better than this, and that eventually I would find my way back to the present. But life has given me some lessons that I want to share with anyone willing to take heed. My stuff may not compare to someone else’s, but we all have stuff. No matter who you are, what you have, the house you live in, the job or title you hold, life is going to toss you around sometimes. Nevertheless, God has given us all what we need to be the best person we can be. The things to ask yourself are, “Am I comfortable with who I am? Can I be content being the authentic me? Is there room for change in my life? Am I willing to do some deep self-reflection and take inventory of myself? Is there purpose in my life beyond just getting through?” Sometimes I sought answers to those questions, and at other times life forced me to reckon with the solutions. Consequently, I have learned a few things along this journey called my life.

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LESSONS I Learned!

You cant heal in isolation, Trust your gut instinct and cling to your faith, Be prepared to get rejected.

You’ve got to persevere. Don’t give up on humanity. Everybody has a purpose, You have to put in the work to achieve your dreams.

Register to join us for the RLC Book Club with Rev. Sharon Risher on June 26th at 7pm EDT!

Six years after the shooting we’re talking again about a racist mass killer, hearing his name over and over. Here are the names we should be remembering: the Rev. Sharonda Coleman-Singleton, Depayne Middleton Doctor, Cynthia Hurd, Susie Jackson, Ethel Lance (my mother), the Rev. Clementa Pinckney, Tywanza Sanders, the Rev. Daniel Simmons and Myra Thompson.

I have no complaint that our legal system requires that every death sentence be extensively reviewed, even when there is no question about the killer’s guilt. Appeals are vitally important because we must make sure that we get it right. God only knows how many times we’ve gotten it wrong, not only about actual guilt, but about culpability. Mental health is a valid concern, and I know that the man who killed my mother is not of a sound mind.

But for a few days now I have been returned to a space of heavy lament. I didn’t understand at first exactly why I was feeling so awful, but for survivors, appeals turn out to be the worst torture imaginable. Every time this case is in the news, I am brought right back to that terrible day and the searing pain of the weeks, months and years that have followed. It is awful.

Despite this pain and the damage done to my family, and possibly because of it, I reject the death penalty. I am aware that racism and other unfairnesses taint the criminal legal system in the United States; there are many other reasons to oppose capital punishment. But I know I am called to this work of ending it because these years of appeals can only be shortened if we abolish the death penalty altogether.

READ: Christian Faith Leader Sign-On to End the Federal Death Penalty

Without a death sentence, as I understand, there is just one appeal, after which we never have to hear the killer’s name again. With a death sentence, it is as if the victim’s family is on death row too. We do not deserve to live in limbo, waiting decades instead of just a year or two for finality in the criminal proceedings for the person who killed our loved ones.

Whatever happens legally, I know that this killer will never be free. For me that is enough. As a Christian, I also know what my faith teaches and I am grateful for the strength I get from Jesus. After wrestling with it for several years, I forgave him. In doing so I was able to release myself from the outrage and hatred that was consuming me with a desire for revenge.

Now I wish our government would also give up on revenge. We’re only on the first round of appeals. How much longer will this go on?

I want his death sentence to be overturned, not for him, but for me. We can be safe from people who hurt and kill others without executions. I know not all will agree with me, but from my perspective, ending the death penalty is the best thing we can do to help murder victim families heal.

This piece first appeared at Religion News Services.