The horror of what happened in Paris is all over social media and news outlets. Most likely, it is a topic on most people’s minds, hearts, and conversations. I told myself, “Do not write about this. Do not turn this into a blog post.” However, I have found that the tapping of my fingers on the keyboard releases the words that are so very heavy on my heart.
In my personal space in this universe, my weekend went just about as planned. My biggest challenges were keeping my 3-yr-old from pestering the cat, encouraging my 9-yr-old to clean his room, and celebrating my soon-to-be 7-yr-old’s birthday.
Still yet, Paris was on my mind.
Sometimes, I just want to lift my hands up to the heavens and scream,
Enough of this.
Enough of violence.
Enough of hatred.
Enough of bigotry.
Enough of heartbreak.
I am not a military mindset kind of person, and certainly do not have a clue as to how to solve the issue of terrorism. I won’t even pretend to understand the complexity of terrorism, persecution, and war, but when I heard that France began a bombing campaign against the ones responsible for the attack on Paris, I felt quite satisfied.
An out-of-town meeting today gave me the opportunity to do a lot of thinking while behind the wheel. I thought about war, acts of terror, and the military campaigns. I thought about my children who are growing up in a world vastly different from the one I grew up in, and I could not help but think about the loss of souls, and the desperate need for our enemies to be covered in prayer. The spiritual side of my heart – the one that yearns for others to seek salvation – felt pained by what has taken place.
There is a tug-of-war between vengeance and peace going on in my heart.
Still yet, today, Paris is on my mind.
Today, I will lift my hands – weary, cracked, and empty – to the heavens and declare,
“Lord, please. Enough.”