One of the small luxuries of being on vacation is watching the morning news. Rich and I have always loved current events- want to instill in our daughter a bigger world view than our own little community and though we try to read as much as we can, having a little family is pretty time consuming. All consuming. And mornings are filled with throwing peanut butter sandwiches in bags and running to catch the bus, not lounging around a breakfast nook discussing headlines. So, the past 8 days we’ve been away, we’ve risen without alarms, poured a second, and sometimes a third, cup of coffee and gathered cozy in the living room to let the news play while we opened sleepy eyes.
This past week was not the week to choose to turn on the television. No fluffy pop news about puppies in costumes or celebrity weddings.
I have spent this vacation half fully invested in the peace and the beauty and the rest, and the other half in constant tears and anguish and longing for Jesus to just come already, because we clearly will never get anything right.
I mourned deeply and with great sadness the loss of Robin Williams, along with the rest of the country. Because, for some small reason or the other, we all felt as though we knew him and wished, albeit presumptuously, we were made privy to his sadness in order to help him carry it. It was a weight I wore around my neck for days, for those I know who carry/ied similar backpacks of hopeless and I held my child tighter and breathed in her scent, ragged breaths and prayed that she would never see life as something she must endure.
And then the tear gas and the bombs and the shouts of injustice from angry mobs poured into my living room live from Ferguson and I grieved anew. For boys who will never grow into men. For men who made choices they’ll carry with them forever. For how far we have come and how far we need to go.
I am sheltered safely in a cabin that smells of pine and am both relieved and guilty of my station.
Prayers for all the lost and found tonight.