Disclaimer: this was prompted by self-conviction, and isn't aimed at anyone else, really.
So last night (04/17/13) a devastating explosion took place in Waco, TX (couple hours from where we live) at a fertilizer plant. It was fatal.
Ben & I don't have cable, so my News intake consists of listening to NPR when I'm in the car, watching CNN at the gym, and getting (late), second-hand updates from people on Facebook. So when I was up in the wee hours of the morning feeding David, I saw several friends statuses (statii?) about their prayers for West Texas. Of course I went searching for clarification.
At first I was saddened; but in more of a blank, detached, loosely compassionate sense. And then I watched this video a friend had posted, and began to cry. Maybe it's hormones. Maybe it's because it happened to be 3am. But I think it was really because of the little boy's voice, especially as the seconds slipped by after the explosion. Sheer terror. And I thought I know what that child is feeling.
I don't know if it's just me, but it does seem like our country has experienced more & more tragedies in the past year. In fact, in just the past couple of months we've had a shooting at a community college here in Houston, and two weeks ago, a mass stabbing took place at a community college just a few minutes from where Ben & I live, not to mention a handful of rapes/sexual assaults in this area. What is going on in this world?
Many people's response is, "praying for the people of _____". And that's generally my (unspoken but obvious) reaction as well. But for some reason, that little boy's voice hit home, and all of the sudden I feel funny for praying with this new, life-or-death gusto for our country because I realized in that moment: it's not just our city or state or nation... there is a brokenness in this world. And that frantic, breathless fear in the little boy's voice? That's the voice of our fellow man around the world. Get me out of here. PLEASE.
The realization that there are people in some countries who witness violence, terrorism, trauma (in every sense of the word) every. single. day. Children who are born into fear. Children who grow into hard, calloused adults. And yet... we somehow segregate ourselves from them. And how? Because we live in luxury?
It probably doesn't grip you the same way it did me (because I'm a little hyper-emotional), but that little boy's voice just broke my heart and opened my eyes.
May we keep our eyes blown wide open, seeing- perhaps for the first time- the True Reality that we as a world are a broken people, & we all need Help. That we shouldn't take for granted- not just our time or loved ones- but strangers. Beauty. Camaraderie. The ability to walk with two legs, or move at all! May we keep our eyes open to the Truth that it's not just me who exists & hurts on this earth. Not just you. But children- REAL children- who are afraid. Women- just like me- who suffer & hurt & wonder, "Who will help me?". Men- just like men I know & love- who ask themselves every morning, "How will I provide & protect myself & my family today?".
We're all people, and we're all capable of the same hurt, the same fear, & even the same evil as any other human on the globe. These tragedies that- tragically- seem to be multiplying exponentially (or at least are increasing in the media) have taken our breath away. Shocked us. Opened our eyes. We ask Why? But I wonder if what we mean is Why us??
So my thought is, "Why not us?" The only difference I see between our country & the larger part of the entire world is that we- I- have the resources to recover. Bounce back. Rebuild... and that's just not fair.
Maybe it's just these events hitting closer to home. But this awareness of brokenness... it's really opened my eyes. And it's made me think in a whole new, pressing way: If we can hurt in the same ways, we should be able to heal in the same ways, too.
I do pray for the people of Aurora, Newtown, Boston, New York, Houston... but I pray we'd be able to relate to our fellow man of Iraq, India, Afghanistan, Israel, Haiti, Japan... the world, in a more real way; without self-righteousness. That our eyes- my eyes- would remain open, and clear, and actively compassionate.
