The National Guard is conducting live fire training five miles away, rattling our windows, frightening the dog, startling my jittery shell-shocked soul, driving home the point. My 11 year old draws a grenade, explains to me how it works, which is easier to survive, grenade in water or grenade on land. She learned this on YouTube from some scientists performing safety experiments. This experimental empathy, this walk in the shoes of another, this drawing breath while a sister sighs her last, baby in her womb sighing, too, This longing for peace, it combines and shreds to shrapnel the way things were, stripping them back, revealing what has been before and before and before. My slippered feet are comfortable in shearling while yours are sore from walking, running fighting, waiting for the other shoe to drop. I cannot comprehend this. In the morning I return to my poem, am interrupted by a clogged shower drain and the sound of rehearsing helicopters overhead.
3 thoughts on “On Wartime”
Sobbing as I write. You nailed it. My soul has been crying, “WHY?” for as long the Ukraine has been attacked. I can’t be comfortable in my blessings. I have sent money, I have texted the President, I have prayed unceasingly. I’ve done all I can think to do and it is not enough!
Same here. It’s so hard.
We are heartbroken and horrified as we watch the suffering and destruction in Ukraine, as we see so many people fleeing for their lives—mothers with babies, children, and the elderly—leaving everything behind in their search for safety. And we see men—fathers and sons, and women staying behind to fight for their families and freedom. Give them your powerful protection and peace, and a faithful confidence that you are in control.
We know, Lord, that you are in control. We know you are the God of hope and that you sent Jesus to bind up the brokenhearted and proclaim liberty to the captives. We don’t know what to do, but you do—and we’re asking you to lead us.
Thank you, God, for giving Daily Hope the opportunity to help in practical, tangible, and intentional ways. You’ve blessed us so we can be a blessing to so many people in need. Our faith in you compels us to respond to this tragedy, for you have taught us, when someone is hungry, feed them, when someone is thirsty, give them a drink, when a stranger needs shelter, invite them into our homes. You’ve told us that when we serve the least of these, we are actually serving you. Give us opportunities to do just that.
We know you are already at work in Ukraine. We ask that you bring good out of this bad and draw all people to you—Ukrainians, Russians, and the watching world. And we ask that your revival power move through Ukraine and Russia, across Europe, and into the rest of the world.
We trust in your goodness and your everlasting mercy.
In Jesus’ name, we pray. Amen.
A prayer from Rick Warren