The sky is blue and the warmth of the sun feels fantastic. The smell of cut grass fills the air while birds peck around the yard for fresh worms. Colour is taking over my little corner of the world, dressing the branches and garden beds again.
And yet, so many corners of the world lie in rubble from violence and disease.
Fear and hate and power and differing ideologies twist facts and opinions, telling differing narratives to the next generation. My heart aches over children growing up knowing the terror of war and the smell of death. A childhood that will inform decisions they will make as adults.
If they survive childhood.
We see this over and over throughout ancient history, modern history, and, of course, today. Nothing is new under the sun. The powerful oppress and rarely show mercy.
Palestine. Syria. Myanmar. Venezuela. Afghanistan. Iraq. Columbia. South Sudan. The Mexico-USA border. The Black community. Indigenous peoples. The list is endless.
Refugees are left waiting indefinitely in camps. Women and children are exploited and trafficked. Poverty is relentless. All corners of this world are crying out for peace and freedom. For the end of oppression and violence. For the eradication of racism and colonization.
All corners of this world have the suffering crying out to be seen.
And yet, so many corners of the world lie in rubble from violence and disease.
(location unknown)
My heart is heavy over the violence and injustice we witness in Gaza. Over the powerful choosing not to hold back their strength, choosing the opposite of de-escalation. Sure, from our North American point of view, it’s complicated and nuanced with biased media coverage. Like so many conflicts, it’s not clear to most onlookers what the way forward is. But what is abundantly clear is that children are dying. Innocent people are dying. Too many lives are being destroyed for us to remain silent. The innocent always pay the price. The Palestinian people are worthy of a safe and flourishing life.Fear and hate and power and differing ideologies twist facts and opinions, telling differing narratives to the next generation. My heart aches over children growing up knowing the terror of war and the smell of death. A childhood that will inform decisions they will make as adults.
If they survive childhood.
We see this over and over throughout ancient history, modern history, and, of course, today. Nothing is new under the sun. The powerful oppress and rarely show mercy.
Palestine. Syria. Myanmar. Venezuela. Afghanistan. Iraq. Columbia. South Sudan. The Mexico-USA border. The Black community. Indigenous peoples. The list is endless.
Refugees are left waiting indefinitely in camps. Women and children are exploited and trafficked. Poverty is relentless. All corners of this world are crying out for peace and freedom. For the end of oppression and violence. For the eradication of racism and colonization.
All corners of this world have the suffering crying out to be seen.
Photo by Artem Beliaikin on Pexels.com
My heart aches over how easily we lose sight of the humanity in “the other.”How easily we team up to oppress and devalue one another.
How easily we stay silent.
How easily we look away when it doesn’t affect us or when it’s too hard to understand.
And then there is India, in full crisis in the same pandemic we are all experiencing. Families like yours and mine – just in a different part of this globe.
With very different accessibility.
As we celebrate our growing vaccinated population here in North America giving hope for a more social and safe summer, I want to remember that so many in the world don’t have access to the same privileges that we do. The vaccines, healthcare, technology, medicine, oxygen, housing, space…the luxuries so many of us have.
We live in a privileged society, despite all our grumbling and complaining, comparing and choosing.
Yet even here, in this privileged society, there are tiers of privilege.
Just ask those living in Peel and Scarborough.
So what do I do in my corner of the world when crises loom so large and devastating? When the suffering of others is so different from my own?
What do I do in my corner of the world when I don’t understand all the history leading up to today’s violence and when it’s unclear who all the players in the crisis are?
All I know is that I can’t look away from the pain of others.
All I know is that we are to stand with the oppressed.
All I know to do is to acknowledge the discrepancy and enter the tension…to SEE the pain of others and to speak up in my little corner of the world. One by one, our voices let those suffering know that we grieve what they are living through. One by one — joined together — can influence change.
All I know to do is to listen and learn even when things are complicated and nuanced.
All I know to do is to allow it all to influence my prayers for others, knowing the God I trust also enters into their suffering with compassion and love, desiring life for them. I will pray for wisdom as we raise our children to value life and to understand that each person — in all corners of the world — is of infinite worth to God.
All I know to do is to allow it to birth an awareness that guides my behaviours and attitudes by asking questions of myself and of others. To allow it to put my own struggles into perspective.
While it feels like there’s not a lot we can do about most of it, we can start by recognizing the pain of others and not burying our heads in the sand of our own comfort. Together, you and I can get to work in our corner.
When I feel so helpless here for those suffering “there,” I remember that I am not truly helpless HERE.
How easily we stay silent.
How easily we look away when it doesn’t affect us or when it’s too hard to understand.
(perspective shift)
With very different accessibility.
As we celebrate our growing vaccinated population here in North America giving hope for a more social and safe summer, I want to remember that so many in the world don’t have access to the same privileges that we do. The vaccines, healthcare, technology, medicine, oxygen, housing, space…the luxuries so many of us have.
We live in a privileged society, despite all our grumbling and complaining, comparing and choosing.
Yet even here, in this privileged society, there are tiers of privilege.
Just ask those living in Peel and Scarborough.
What do I do in my corner of the world when I don’t understand all the history leading up to today’s violence and when it’s unclear who all the players in the crisis are?
All I know is that I can’t look away from the pain of others.
All I know is that we are to stand with the oppressed.
All I know to do is to acknowledge the discrepancy and enter the tension…to SEE the pain of others and to speak up in my little corner of the world. One by one, our voices let those suffering know that we grieve what they are living through. One by one — joined together — can influence change.
All I know to do is to listen and learn even when things are complicated and nuanced.
All I know to do is to allow it all to influence my prayers for others, knowing the God I trust also enters into their suffering with compassion and love, desiring life for them. I will pray for wisdom as we raise our children to value life and to understand that each person — in all corners of the world — is of infinite worth to God.
All I know to do is to allow it to birth an awareness that guides my behaviours and attitudes by asking questions of myself and of others. To allow it to put my own struggles into perspective.
So as I sit here surrounded by the colour and sounds of spring, all I know to do is to not numb out and look away from the pain of others, but to let my heart break for those suffering here in my local community and in the global community.
While it feels like there’s not a lot we can do about most of it, we can start by recognizing the pain of others and not burying our heads in the sand of our own comfort. Together, you and I can get to work in our corner.
When I feel so helpless here for those suffering “there,” I remember that I am not truly helpless HERE.
All I know to do in my corner of the world, as I grieve the suffering of others, is to spread love and kindness here and pray that God multiplies it to reach the hearts of his suffering image-bearers around the world.
Photo by Dayne Topkin on Unsplash
All I know to do is to keep my heart soft and my eyes open for the good gifts around me, and to accept them with deep gratitude.
Gratitude cultivates joy and gives us a hope to share with others.
The day will come when Peace reigns and my heart longs for that day.
Until then, all I know to do in my corner of the world is risk my heart to grieve with others and to work toward peace and hope for all.
