We Do Not Know

This blog is about this newscast.

I watch this and I think about how I have no framework for this sort of event.  I'm like a 2 year old who sees a deer and calls it a cow, because that's the closest thing in his vocabulary.

I see glimpses of what is happening in places like Iraq and Israel and Palestine and I call it "tragedy" or "terrible" or some other impotent word because that's the closest thing in my experience.  It's all I've got.  I don't really understand it.

Just like I don't understand a whole host of hard things that are part of normal life for so much of the world:
Hunger.
True need.
War.
Bombs.

I don't understand what it means to be hunted down for any reason, but especially not because someone hates me for the religion I was born into.

I have never witnessed the kind of hate that looks a person in the eyes and then chooses to steal the life from them.  It's here- that kind of hate- in my own country.  I know this, but I have never experienced it myself.  And I certainly have never experienced it being allowed to run unchecked through the land.

What is going on in the minds of those who managed to climb onboard that helicopter?  What about those who didn't?

"About 20" go on.  "About 40,000" are trapped.  That's gonna take a lot of trips.

And even for those to get on the helicopter: Where will they go?  Will they ever get to go home?  See their families?  Return to some sense of normal?  Will some country take them in?  Will they end up here, in my country?  Will people jeer at them and tell them to "Learn English or go back to your own country?"  Will we really do that to these precious, traumatized people as we have to so many other precious, traumatized people who have fled to us for help in the past?  May it not be so.

Or will they never even be "lucky" enough to face our scorn?  Will they spend the rest of their lives in a refugee camp somewhere, joining the masses of displaced people who never make it back home?

Why was I born here and that little girl was born in Iraq?  So much that I don't understand.

And then I think Oh, it's time to get ready for bed.

I go about my normal routine.  I will lament being alone; I will probably be awakened sometime in the night by the noise of my frat-boy neighbors having a party.  I will hit my snooze too many times before I get up in the morning.  I'll put out my trash and go to work and meanwhile, on the other side of the globe, a little girl is boosted to safety in a rescue helicopter.  Or she isn't.  And my brain stops.  The confusion and sorrow are too thick.  They clog my brain and I run out of comprehension.

These are the times to be thankful for this promise from Romans 8:26- "In the same way, the Spirit helps us in our weakness.  We do not know what we ought to pray for, but the Spirit himself intercedes for us with wordless groans."

Oh friends.  We do not know.  We are caught up in a crazy tornado of chaos.  Of horror and monotony and the guilt we feel for worrying about school clothes and Pinterest projects and movies while the world falls apart around us.

It's not that we don't care.  Most of us are sorry this is happening.  But we don't ache.  It's that we don't understand or know what to do.  We are uninspired because we don't know- the people, the places, the pain, the fear.  We are limited creatures.  Perhaps out of mercy, we have been created to disconnect from that which we don't understand if we are allowed to do it.

We disconnect, and that is easier for us, but there is a price for this disconnecting.  That little girl will pay it.  Or maybe her sister will, still trapped in the mountains.  She waits in the heat.  For water.  For rescue.  For hope.  But the question is, will it come?