Giving Up - Day 14

I touched on this briefly in my post "Come", but it's been weighing on my mind so heavily, it felt like it needed more attention.

I am a product of the internet generation. I don't remember a world before Facebook. I am a big fan of the internet - not because it makes me life easier (although it obviously does), but because I think it is an absolutely incredible avenue for human creativity and expression. Never before would it have been possible for me to support independent creators so easily, affordably, and efficiently. I love that I can partake in projects like 25 Days for Peace. I love that we can exchange ideas and opinions so easily and freely.

I hate how social media tinges our response to tragedy.

In light of the attacks on Paris, I was terrified. She will think me silly for feeling this way, but my cousin is studying abroad in Paris, and my terror was born exclusively from the thought of my childhood companion caught in the crossfire. It was for her I clicked to add the French flag over my profile photo, to say in a small way that I was there for her. Truthfully, it was more for myself. I wanted to do something, let my world know I was hurting for the ones who died, the ones who were injured, the ones who will never again feel completely safe the way they once did.

The next morning I woke up to a rage storm on my newsfeeds. People outraged that the attacks in Paris received so much press, when the tragedies in Beirut, Baghdad, and Japan were largely unheard of. People in a fury over the #PrayforParis tags. Countless times I saw the line “no white people died, so no one cares”, referring to the other tragedies.

Who told you I didn’t care?

What about my sympathy for Parisians and fear my for family member meant that my heart wasn’t also breaking for Syria, as it has been for months?

When did the answer to tragedy become anger?

I knew my responses were hypocritical. My reaction to people’s anger was more anger of my own. But I could not be reasoned with. God worked on my heart, convicting me of my rage, and while I was humbled, the feeling didn’t quite fade. I left church that morning and curled on my bed trying to pray, but unable to put words to my heart’s pain. Slowly the rage melted to heartbreak. I sobbed, utterly broken hearted for my world.

It was a day that "break my heart for what breaks yours" became too real. It isn't a prayer to be prayed lightly and I felt the weight of it.

Craig and I spent some time in prayer that afternoon, and I found myself at the point of hope in the middle of hopelessness. 

There is peace in giving up.

I can't fix the world. I can't stop the social media rage storm. I can't keep those blinded by hate from hurting the innocent. I can't feed them all. It will not happen. Our world won't get better. But someday, the King will return, and oh the comfort in that knowledge! This groaning of creation will finally stop, and healing can really begin. So much peace in knowing it isn't up to me.

None of this means we don't work for justice, peace, and mercy. Christ called us to care for the poor, the fatherless, and the hungry. But in that call, he made it about him and not about us. He will do the work of peace and justice through us, through those who dedicate their lives to serving in the third world, through those who provide a compassionate ear to a hurting friend, and through every little action in between.

But sometimes you just fall apart.

Every little thing you've tried to do to fix your world or your life just seems futile. You kind of hate humanity. You feel angry and sad and frightened and vengeful all at the same time. In those moments, you give up. You give up trying to fix it, you give up the illusions of control, you give up hoping for tangible change, and fall into the arms of the Creator. There is more peace there than we will ever find on this earth.

25 Days for Peace is a cooperative blogging experiment between myself and five other artists, designed to explore the facets of peace, particularly centered around this season intended to experience the peace of Christ. Visit this page to see the other contributions to this journey, and like it to join with us in exploring what peace means.