Processing Pictures of War From My House in the Suburbs
“For mortals it is impossible, but for God all things are possible.”
I saw an image from Gaza that broke my heart wide open of a mother clinging to her daughters. Their bodies were covered in white dust from debris; the only bare skin I saw was exposed by their tears. Another image of a 4-year old Palestinian girl whose face was swollen twice its size flashed on my screen. Her right eye was so bruised it couldn’t open all the way. A headline ran at the top of the screen describing how many Israeli children Hamas beheaded. I sat with the images and thought of Jesus’ words in Luke 6: “Blessed are you who are poor, for yours is the kingdom of God.”
It occurred to me that, while in some ways comparing suffering is unhelpful, any pain I experience in this life will not hold a candle to the burden these families have carried. And, at least for me, that truth was helpful to recognize.
I think of Jesus’ care for the poor. For children. How he said “Whoever welcomes one such child in my name welcomes me” in Matthew 18 and “The Spirit of the Lord is upon me, because he has anointed me to bring good news to the poor” in Luke 4.
I thought of these things from my house in the suburbs while I drank a peppermint tea and Alexa played John Coltrane in the background. I remembered something else Jesus said after speaking to the rich young ruler: “Truly I tell you, it will be hard for a rich person to enter the kingdom of heaven. Again I tell you, it is easier for a camel to go through the eye of a needle than for someone who is rich to enter the kingdom of God.”
Matthew writes that the disciples were astonished by these words and said, “Then who can be saved?”
I felt the weight of their question in my bones. It wasn’t shame for being born in America or having a house or drinking peppermint tea. I’ve gone down that path and it isn’t helpful or useful. It was more like a heartbroken humility. A deep recognition of how easy it is for me to “gain the whole world but forfeit my soul.” How easily I can insulate myself from reality.
I wrote about this last week, but I am not suggesting everyone needs to take vows of poverty and I am not suggesting we need to over-expose ourselves to every world tragedy. In some ways, those solutions double down on unsustainable binaries and bypass the deeper work of staying tender to the world as the Spirit leads.
We are all limited, fragile humans. The weight of the world is not ours to bear. Our frames are dust, as the Psalmist wrote. AND we ought to do justice, love kindness, and walk humbly with God.
I stayed small and stayed in step with the Spirit by opening myself to the grief of those images. I prayed for the people in them. I mourned for every victim of violence. I prayed for a tender heart. I let myself feel the weight of Jesus’ words about the rich. I recognized my wealth as an employed, house-owning American.
And then I read Jesus’ response to the question, “Then who can be saved?”
It brought instant tears to my eyes: “For mortals it is impossible, but for God all things are possible.”
A mercy of all mercies.
-Savannah
Writing Prompt: How have you been processing the news lately? How is the Spirit leading you? How can you stay small?
Recommended Following: Sharon McMahon is a brilliant and helpful person that helps dissect the news. I have followed her for the past 3 years. If you find yourself swimming in information and don’t know up from down, please give her a follow!
2023 for me was mostly about addiction and grief and processing trauma. The Spirit encourages me to stay local, pray for family and friends & avoid bigger picture issues until a time when I can tolerate it. Also, the Spirit tells me it's ok to find solace in Taylor Swift.
Sharon is one of the few instagram follows I miss.
Where I’m at right now is continuing counseling. There is so much to process and I need an impartial third party to dissect so much with, especially when it comes to finding a better solution than either overly throwing myself into EVERY issue, compounding trauma that was already there, or just distancing myself entirely.