Traffic jams and terror

The minis and I were stuck in terrible traffic for over an hour earlier today. Hungry and tired after hashing out some challenging behavior from a member of my brood, I was just grateful we had plenty of gas in the car and no one was screaming for a toilet. Later, safe at home, fed and taking a moment of rest I start to read about Christians in Iraq- mamas with minis just like me, who believe in the One true God, just like me- being driven from their homes, brutally assaulted, and stuck in the wilderness with no food or water. The ferocity of our polar realities is almost too much- I have to walk outside, try and catch my breath in the August heat, let tears fall to the grass as I walk. I don’t know how to reconcile it all- the traffic jams and the terrorists, the fighting siblings and the fight to survive- all of us walking the same planet, crying out to the same God, but such vast difference to our individual worlds. And whether it’s the prayers from these Tennessee hills, or the desert mountains of Iraq, I know He hears us; I know He never abandons us on any hillside or any mountain. I know it. So even as I can’t find a way to see it, I say it, and I stand on it. As I walk back to the house I find myself imagining a mama on the other side of the world hearing my voice, my tears, mixed with her’s in prayer and hoping she knows she is not alone.