I cried. Tears ran from my eyes, trickled down my cheeks, and splashed on my shirt. I felt so sad. Deep down, deep down in those we don't want to talk about or even think about, I felt sad. This sadness gripped me in a way that almost frightened me. I was sad on so many levels and sad for so many reasons.
I cried because I doubt if anyone told him about Jesus moments before he died. Did someone take the time to tell him that Jesus loved him and would forgive for all that he had done wrong? Did he have someone there that could say the words that would touch his heart and help him turn his life around, even at the end of it? Saddam Hussein was evil, mean, awful, terrible, murderous, spiteful, all those bad adjectives I can't even think of. Do I think he deserved to go to Hell? Yes, he deserved to go to Hell? Did I want him to go to Hell? No. I wanted him dead and gone. I wanted him to stop his tyranny and acknowledge all of his wrongdoings. I wanted him to hurt and feel the pain of all those he had brutalized. I wanted punishment, revenge, justice, fairness, equality, and wanted to see him suffer. How I wanted him dead. But, I didn't want him to go to Hell. The Bible states that we have all sinned and fallen short of the glory of God. Some more than others. That doesn't matter. My Jesus would have done everything He did on Earth, even if I had been the only person ever born. Even if Saddam Hussein had been the only person born. Salvation is a gift meant for everyone, even Saddam Hussein.
I cried because I was confused. I was sorry he was dead. I was ecstatic he was dead. Isn't that confusing? How can I be a good person and believe that there is good in everyone, like I do, and still be thrilled he was dead? Then, on top of all that, I was sad he was dead. Hanging him probably didn't do much. He never admitted, at least publicly, he was wrong. He didn't go to all those he had wronged and. at least, attempted to make it right. He just stopped breathing. He just stopped living. He just stopped being able to do the horrid things he had done before. No atonement, no justice, no getting in the "way back machine" fixing all the things he broke. He was just dead.
I cried for all those he had wronged. They didn't get what they deserved from him. Not in his life and not in his death. Lives lost, limbs lost, families torn apart...the list is endless. There was no justice for those people. There was just a pitiful excuse for a human hanging by a rope, dead.
I cried because I had been cheated. All the anger I was feeling, at that moment and in the past, could never be expressed to him. I was cheated when Saddam Hussein was executed. I didn't get to hit him or shake him. I didn't get to spit on him. I didn't get to take my soapbox to Iraq and stand on it, getting in his face and telling what I really thought. I didn't get to make him crawl on his belly and eat dirt. I didn't get to reach in his chest and pull out his heart and open to all the pain and misery he had caused. I felt cheated I couldn't touch his heart in a loving way so that he could experience God the way I do.
I cried because of all the waste. Wasted lives. Wasted time. Wasted money. Wasted effort. Wasted resources. Wasted power. Wasted talent. Wasted technology. Wasted intellect. Waste. Waste. Waste. Waste. Everything about Saddam Hussein, his life, his directorship, everything, was wasted. The only thing that wasn't wasted in regards to him was the prayers of those who prayed for him. Those prayers saved at least one life. Those prayers stopped him from some evil he was planning.
I cried when Saddam Hussein was executed. I cried as I wrote this. I will continue to cry. And, I will continue to pray. I will cry and pray that no one else will ever be like him. I will cry and pray the those things he stood for will cease to exist. I will cry and pray for those hurt by his actions. I will cry and pray for those who have the capability to be like him. Yes. I will cry and I will pray.