We Pray for Peace — And Walk Toward It
Peace, Freedom, Solidarity Jessica Thornton @jessicathorntondesigns
Peacemakers -
I’ll be honest – I don’t have any great words for you right now. Here we are again - the US once again inflicting colonial violence and spilling blood all over the world, this time most overtly in Iran and Palestine. The only statements I want to make are not particularly peaceful, nor fit for print. I am angry. I am sad. I am afraid. I imagine you are too.
I was eight years old when Desert Storm began. I remember my initial confusion, trying to grasp the abstraction that is war. I remember that confusion returning once again in high school, when the “war on terror” kicked off. My awareness of the world had grown, but my struggle to understand what bombing people across the world had to do with the losses of September 11th remained.
I now have a daughter who is nearly eight years old herself. Once again, the US are the aggressors in a global conflict. Once again, I have no idea how to explain the math of war, to myself or to her.
I have no idea how to quantify how this much perceived threat, times that many resources we feel entitled to, minus the number of civilian casualties Americans will stomach (too many, all too many) makes bloodshed justifiable. I have no idea how to balance the equation. I have no idea what “right” number of minds and bodies must be sacrificed to the war machine. How many brilliant engineers, scientists, poets, artists, thinkers is the right number to send out with orders to level whole cities, full of brilliant artists and scientists just the same.
I am thinking of children everywhere. I am thinking of parents like myself trying and failing for the words to make sense of this senseless destruction. And I am thinking of parents who are not explaining war to their children, because they are already living it. I am thinking of the children of Gaza, and their parents, and the people with no family left. I am thinking of the children of Tehran and the children of Tel Aviv, experiencing terror in real time as I write this. I am thinking of the children in so many places marked by violence. And I am wondering when our concern for children became forfeit. I'm wondering how, as a culture, we can be okay with the deaths of any humans, healers, soldiers, or otherwise, as if any one of us ever stops being a child of God.
When the right words run short because there are no right words, we pray. Pause with me, wherever you are, and pray. Offer your voice. Pray loud and remember this is not normal. You are not alone in your horror. You are not alone in your outrage. You are not alone in your grief. You are not alone.
God of Peace, help us.
We are at it again. Still. Again.
We are and ever have been so quick to harm,
eager to fight,
defined by our sense of strength
and the illusion of security.
That what will make us “safe” is having ever more -
Soldiers
Guns
Bombs
and an endless appetite for violence.
God whose name is Love, help us.
We are saturated with the narrative that the world is ours to shape to our will.
Puncture our illusions about being the good guys, that we might gain clear eyes.
Rupture the untrue stories so that we may reconcile, repair, forgive, and trust You enough to mean it when we say: “Thy will be done.”
It is Your world, not ours.
These are Your children, not ours.
God of the Impossible, we pray for peace.
Change the hearts of those who choose violence.
Change the hearts of those who think they are unable to resist.
Change the perspective of those who assume that their impact is too small.
Change the minds of all those who lack imagination.
Give us the vision to see the path to peace.
And give us the courage to walk down it beside You.
In the name of the Prince of Peace. Amen.
Sending courage,
Laurie