Recently I was assaulted by media pictures of what is going on in Mosul. I, seriously, cannot even imagine being in the midst of those circumstances. Cannot even!
The chaos of destruction in the streets. The glazed looks of the survivors. The odd child sitting in dirt absolutely scared and confused as to what is going on around them. They will need a lifetime of counselling to heal from these horrors if they survive. The haze and fog of dust, gun smoke and bombs. The overall greyness to absolutely everything. The hanging and tangled electrical wires. The mountains of vehicles blown up and impaired. The rubble of buildings. Nothing left really. Everything devastated and completely ruined. Not fit for human existence and yet…. humans are existing in this horrifying war torn zone. I can see the fear as I look at these pictures. My heart weeps as I read the reports of devestation and terror here and it leaps for joy at the acts of heroes trying to be Christ with skin on.
The people of Mosul (the victims… which I must clarify as it’s a civil war) are not concerned about whether they eat vegan or gluten free they are just desperate for sustenance. They don’t give a crap as to whether their hair is turning grey (and it most likely is) they are fighting to stay alive. Latest fashion… please? They don’t know what Valentino rockstuds are and they don’t care. Starbucks? Don’t make me laugh. Clean water or any water would make their day. I’m sure they’d love to go on a vacation. A vacation to anywhere but there. Their photos are being taken as they run for their lives and are posted all over social media -that’s how I happened upon them – Having the perfect pout or the right staging or the latest style or gaining followers isn’t even on their radar.
Seriously? How was I so blessed to be born into a country that has, thus far, known peace and freedom and respect for human life?? And I am ashamed to admit the incidents that make me frustrated and angry. The barista made my $5 drink wrong-again. I can’t get the red wine stain out of my new white t-shirt. Is it time to do my roots again. I’m late because my luxury car ran out of gas. I’m too busy… I have to work at my awesome job and then go shop for food that I actually have money to buy and implies that my family will be eating again this week, then I have to go to the gym to workout (implying we did too much eating) and then race home to make a cake for my husbands birthday-implying we have the mindset and the means to engage in a celebration. I got laid off and now have to learn to live on less. Boohoo. I have too much stuff and have to purge again. I have to clean my comfortable cozy safe house, yet again.
We know there are many other locations, outside of Mosul, dealing with similar terrors and tragedies. Obviously we have serious loss and devastation over here in North America too. We have loved ones dying of diseases and a homeless population and unnecessary crime (is any crime necessary?). Mental illness and inconvenient and sometimes scary weather patterns not to mention drunk drivers and corrupt politicians etc. This is our reality, but we are not dealing with these tradegies with the added context of war and terrorism.
I had to bite the bullet this morning and force myself out of my comfy bed out into the brilliant sunshine and warm rays to embark on my daily walk. This was going to be a drudgery in my mind. And what to my wondering eyes should appear? Beautiful homes with manicured lawns and landscaping. Luxury cars parked in the driveways. Children laughing while freely and safely riding their bikes in the park. Elegant, fragrant flowers of all species and colors, music playing as cars pass by with windows open. Our friendly neighborhood Starbucks teaming with life and relationship, mothers pushing prams and strollers, joggers checking their fitbits, builders constructing beautiful mountain condos. Bright blue sky and rich green grass and trees. (Well the grass is looking a little like straw lately but let’s not confuse the issue with details) . Not once did I have worry about getting bombed or shot. The thought didn’t enter my mind. My greatest concern was making it home in time to indulge Mother Nature.
We are not entitled to these realities and privileges. We are blessed! Plain and simple. Blessed beyond belief.
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The Red Plaid Apron 