I hear the news of genocide again in another place a world away.
Do we dare to turn away, to allow people to die again?
Do we learn nothing from all the times of genocide?
Are we so lost within our own violence that
we never speak out and say enough!
How do we solve power and thirst for it,
the call to hate one another and extinguish life?
Will we ever learn the value of each other,
how we enrich each others lives, how we are woven together?
The answers only bring more questions.
But my heart only knows grief for friends made.
Prayers for safety, for protection, and knowing full well
it is all I can do, nothing more or less.
It feels so empty so powerless, yet it is the story.
Because the most power is in the story.
As the stories came out of Rwanda, so will the stories
be made here. Ones of hope, endurance, love that reaches beyond.
Them there will be small shred of love realized, forgiveness
poured out. It is all a hope born in any soul, hope is all
Which will remain to bring the few through.
God bring them through.