A Coffee and Some More ... Friday
I was talking with my parents over lunch the other day about how these days, we want to read and hear as little of the news as possible. There is a federal election going on here in Canada, and the campaigning for President in the United States is a long, inescapable (almost) affair even north of the 49th parallel. All the posturing and attacking and fake promises found in every camp at such times is tiring to take in—at least in any more than the smallest of doses.
And I find myself thinking how we, like those being oppressed in dusty Roman cities and towns thousands of years ago, are looking for someone to save us. Even as many of us privileged ones have little by way of actual oppression. Even as we, like so many before us, look in all the wrong places for freedom. Even as we often fail to see how much we have in comparison to many who have so little.
There is a man in Syria who has little now. Oh, he has much sorrow and grief and pain for in his family’s desperate bid to escape oppression there, he lost his two young sons and his wife to an unforgiving sea … and to unforgiving bureaucratic red tape. It’s easy for me, for many of us, to talk about going through “proper channels” and “waiting” and “being patient”. But we do not have gunfire around us, ISIS literally knocking at our doors. We’re not truly desperate.
And I find myself ashamed at how wrapped up I can get in my own trivialities. It’s not to say I need to carry the weight of the world on my shoulders. I can’t. But I certainly need to pause, look, listen, pray, and do what I can (what I ought) as one who follows Jesus. Too often I’ll sing, “Where You go, I’ll go” when in my heart I’m tacking on, “Unless it’s …” and so unfurls my long list of conditions.
Oh, oh, oh.
We all need Jesus. We all need help. We all need a strength not our own.
And the thing is … … We all get Jesus (should we so choose Him). … We all get help (should we unclench hands and hearts). … We all get a strength not our own (should we lower our guards and pride and hurts).
And so we can help. So we can welcome in the lost and the hurting. So we can show the world a God who does care. So those who are scared and lost and desperate and hurting can find courage and a home and safety and healing.
It’s Friday, and while I hope you have a good one may you, as I need to do, not turn a blind eye to where we can help those for which it’s anything but good.
For excellent reading and resources on the refugee crisis, read Sarah Bessey’s #Refugees Welcome and read all the links she provides. I will. Let’s spur each other on to action, okay?