This morning, after our class stood to say the pledge, we paused for a moment of silence. In that silence I prayed over my class; that they would never have to experience an attack on not just our nation, but in humanity. That they would remain innocent and naive for many years, retaining as much joy of youth as they can before its peeled from their fingers. That they would live by hope, and not fear; that their lives would be protected from the very things that changed ours 14 years ago. I remember being in school that day, and how nothing else mattered. Not race or poverty or hate or gender; nothing but love and grace and comfort. We've come so far (in the wrong direction) from the united front we were that day. My heart breaks and I openly weep at the status of brokenness and darkness in this world, and I stand helplessly before my class, striving every day to help build up kindness and love and acceptance and generosity in their hearts, yet knowing how hearts grow hard as they grow up. Jesus, I truly believe only you can rescue us from our current state and repair the brokenness in our nation and world. Please grant us the mercy and willingness and grace to stand united, in Love, and never ceasing to do good. Although many lost loved ones and our country lost civil servants, I feel my generation lost a lot of innocence that day. And for a moment, we stood in hope and love and contended for peace, but we've grown weary and complacent. Father, give us the strength to love harder, to speak gentler, to give more sincerely. I'm not quite sure why this is so heavy on my heart today and why after so many years I am still so impacted by this day, but reflection is my nature and the brokenness around us (children washing up on shorelines, pastors committing suicide, heinous genocide, divorces and adultery and heartbreaks abound)-- all of it is too much and renders me feeling so helpless. Jesus, may we act more like you and love more like you and forgive more like you, until you set it all right again.
my heart as of late has been unbearably heavy. the tiniest things put me in such an emotional place that i finally realize how fragile i am, how fragile life is. Humans of New York (if you don't follow them, reroute your browser to take you there stat. Those photos say more than my blog could ever dream of) is wrecking me. I'm certain he is the last living humanitarian of our generation. I'm also certain every story he shines light on is just the face of a thousand more just like it; which is so weighty to think about. this is modern day persecution people. this is happening, in a time when cars are being developed to drive themselves and phones can do anything a developer sets his mind to and we are at a place we are finding water on mars-- we are freaking ON mars. And yet, there is war and mass genocide and pain and fear and exodus and so. much. evil.
it's so easy to dismiss. it's on the other side of the world, not the other side of our front doors. it's easy to carry on, to be distracted by Trump's hair or XYZ candidate or the season premiers of some trashy reality show. but the reality is, this is happening. more than HALF of Syria's population (of 22 MILLION) has been forced to leave their homes. that's like saying HALF OF THE STATE OF TEXAS, the second most populated state in the country-- HALF of the state is being forced out. Would we stand for that?! Would we go about our day, thinking nothing of it? more than TWICE the population of Colorado -- FLEEING in fear. and that's just thinking of those leaving. I don't know the numbers on those dying-- either in Syria or in transit.
you guys, that is huge. its weighty. its unbearable. i'm choking back tears just thinking about it, because I'm finally allowing myself to think about it.
it is literally SO big, and yet SO seemingly far from us, that it feels absolutely impossible to be able to do anything. i'd like to hope that for most of us, it isn't apathy that keeps our hands tied, but rather, that it's our own insignificance. our distance. the gravity of the situation and the limitations of being one person, a million miles away.
there has to be something we can do. prayer just doesn't seem like enough. it seems like a cop out. if we were being forced from our homes, and braving the sea in plastic boats because it is safer than hiding in the one place you should feel comfortable-- i'll be honest, someone telling me from the comfort of they keyboard that they will pray for me would likely infuriate me more than comfort me.
i'm so at a loss. i feel so beyond helpless. my heart hurts, and i feel severely burdened by every story i read. these are more than numbers. these are lives. of moms and dads and babies and kids that should be in kindergarten-- not watching their friends be torn to shreds by rocket blasts, literally in front of their faces, at school. these stories are of real people experiencing real terror and fear and being literally chased by death and evil. and i'm upset that I couldn't find anything i liked when I went shopping earlier. i am the problem, too, you see. because i am not a part of the solution. i just don't know how to be.
i can pray and ask God to intervene, but to be honest, it doesn't look like he's going to anytime soon. that in itself is an entire different blog post, and I can't even begin to explore the evil and dark and demonic side of this suffering; i can only merely focus on the physical impact it is having on the lives of these refugees.
there is no resolution in this prose. there is no succinct phrasing I can wrap up all pretty, and you can take a little reminder as you depart. I can't even say that I have hope for this situation-- although I know that Jesus is the only hope we have, i honestly confess that I don't know how telling that to someone that has endured so. much. more. than I will ever, ever, ever have to succumb to in my life would actually improve the situation (eternity, yes; but real, practical, help is what I am talking about).
Lord, have mercy. that is all I can muster. Jesus, hurry. Turn the hearts. protect the innocent and persecuted. let love win.
