A Peaceful Day In A War Zone

With the family dispersed here and there all over the state celebrating Thanksgiving on their own, Ginny and I enjoyed the empty nest syndrome—a reward for parents who’ve successfully raised children to productive, independent adulthood.

We slept late, watched parades on tv (saw Mark’s mom & dad riding their Arabian horses in the Detroit parade) and we ate a simple and simply wonderful feast of Thanksgiving. Then Ginny snuggled in the crook of my arm with her head nestled on my shoulder and we napped with the white noise of an uninteresting tv football game in the background.

To round off a perfect day we watched a biographical profile about Jimmy Stewart’s Wonderful Life.

Fascinating.

Such Christmas shopping as we can do has already been done— just as well because repairing the house’s heater/air conditioner system last week wiped out all our discretionary funds. You cain’t give what you ain’t got. We can live with that.

But, while our idyllic day flowed with peace, in Mumbai, India, a city of 18 million people which used to be named Bombay, terrorist strike teams attacked ten hotels, a synagogue, and various other undefended sites. They killed at least 120 people.

Only sketchy news comes from India right now, but when I heard of the atrocity, my first thought was of Amrita, an e-friend who lives in northern India away from the war zone. Her blog is at http://yesugarden.blogspot.com/ ;she reports events closer to the source.

For the world, this has been a day of mayhem, turmoil, blood, and gunfire; for us it has been a day of quiet, happy peace rooted in Christ…

I wish the world had what we have.

Poor world.

Poor, poor world.

Of course there’s no reason for me to feel smug just because I’ve enjoyed a cozy day. The Lord does grant His servants in life’s battles days of R&R, but we remain in combat with evil both internal (as witness my postings last week) and external.

The day before Thanksgiving some workers here in Jacksonville lost their jobs abruptly. The company they worked for lost a contract; but the workers did not know this until Wednesday afternoon when a supervisor came around the job site, collected their tools, announced their firing, and left without giving them their final paychecks.

This tragedy may not rank up there with the attacks in India but it has the same source. The devil, though defeated, his head crushed by Christ’s heel, yet rages in his scorched-earth retreat to the place he belongs.

Thinking about my own spiritual warfare and about the awful news from India and such evil in the local workplace, I also think in terms of evangelism—and how little I do of it. How shall they believe without a messenger to tell them of Christ’s love?

But, I am what I am. At this moment a man at peace, but with a sense of responsibility and a modicum of caring.

Lord, help me to do what I can, where I am, with what I have.

On some level, I do love You.