There’s this book called “Heavy is a Hippopotamus.” It’s this dusty old, bright orange book at the daycare that tries to explain the word “heavy” and the idea of weight to kids. Even though they continue to want to read it repetitively, because there’s a playfully illustrated picture of a hippo on the cover, the concepts lose them about halfway through. It’s a valiant effort, nonetheless. I’d like for there to be a psychological (or is it philosophical?) book that would explore the meaning of words like “heavy” in an emotional sort of being.
This morning I’m thinking about ISIS in Iraq. Heavy.
As I perused FB yesterday, I saw a couple posts about it, but chose to keep scrolling. Last night, I decided to watch a CNN interview and this morning I looked just a tiny bit more into it. Only a tiny bit is what I personally can handle. I stay away from most of the news. I shouldn’t, but I do. The moment I find out about ugliness in the world, I will obsess. It will haunt me. It really is pure evil. I know this kind of stuff goes on in the world but I’m so unbelievably sheltered to it that I’m still left with the thought process of I can’t believe this is happening!
And so I was drawn to pray. About the Christians fleeing Mosul and those still there, unable to leave. The families being ravaged. And God, I wondered about You. I wondered like a kid wonders about the universe. I thought about armies of angels and the power of God being bigger, greater, stronger than all the ugly of this world. God can stop it, but yet He (seemingly) isn’t. ??!!?!?!
THIS is the sort of matter that doubt is made of. THIS is one of the foundations where people who choose to not believe in God stand on. I get it. It’s not the first time I’ve thought about it.
Just yesterday, I marveled at the patience of God. Working with toddlers who talk back to you (and by talk back, I mean scream at the top of their lungs in your face), will try to kick, slap and bite you all over not getting their own way, which seems righteous enough to them as they see it, made me thankful that I am not God. God is the ultimate definition of PATIENCE. This is in a way that I cannot fully comprehend. I’m grateful for it. I’m baffled and often made defiantly impatient by it. I know that I am that toddler to God at times.
Granted, and I say this with all sincere despair and depravity of the situation, I’m not beheading anyone. Like I said, I cannot grasp the mind of God fully.
Not to say God doesn’t do anything. This is to say, “Aslan is on the move.” I can’t see it. I don’t understand it. My toddler mind wants it to be a grandiose swifter (while still being slow in so many other areas.)
I prayed for JOY. Seems crazy. Seemed crazy at the moment I prayed for it in light of what else is happening right now at this second in time. I recognize what a privileged country, state, home, family, marriage, job, PLACE I’m in. I want to be aware of these things without obsessing into a deep pit of despair. Because how do you continue at an everyday’s privileged pace when this is the reality of what is going on elsewhere?? Then again what does a personal bereft black hole do for anyone? Rather, I pray that knowledge would propel me towards action. For someone who is so shotty at it, like myself, prayer is a good place to start.