In Lincolnshire

7:10pm-12:06am

On Afghan Suffering

I'm with Maria and Quan. Lovely British town.
Amongst beauty, centuries old art, buildings, sites.
A castle. A cathedral. Boutiques.
A family. A home. Coziness.
Garden. Flowers.
Walks. Talks. Inner peace.


Then there's everything I came with, everything Afghan.
I came to take a break, to get away.
Is that really possible?
Isn't it just like trying to cover the sun with my index finger?

Afghan suffering.
People suffering.
Women suffering.
Children suffering.
Men suffering.
A nation suffering.
Ruins, so much in ruins.
Indifference. So much indifference.
All heavy like syrup. All heavy and sticky.

I just watched an amazing documentary on life in Afghanistan during the Taleban time as well
as Post-Taleban.
It breaks me in half.
Brings me to my knees.
Makes me taste my own tears.
Makes me run to God, weep in God's arms.

Have I been too comfortable in Afghanistan?
Am I overlooking what's real?
Have I secluded myself in a bubble?

How do I focus on seeing life as clear as a water drop?
In Herat I got to see first hand villages of returned Afghan refugees who'd been living in Iran.
In Kabul I have gone out to work with associations with women members full of grief in each crease of their faces and hands.
Each wrinkle folds a story of pain and despair.
Life is truly so harsh.

Where do I come in?
What does it all mean?
What does it mean to be amongst a suffering nation? Me the outsider, the one who can always run away to a better, safer,
cleaner, spacious place?

My Father keeps me still.
He claims I am there to walk amongst them.
But who am I to get the priviledge to walk amongst those who suffer the most?
What entitles me? How dare I?

I am painfully aware of how undeserving I am to walk amongst the suffering.
I am painfully weak and easily broken.
Do my good intentions matter?
Am I part of something that provides healing?

My hope.
That is all I can bring.
That is all I can give.
Yet it seems so hard to keep it.
So easy to lose it.

So I turn to my Lord. I plead, hold my hands. Steady my steps.
I cannot carry this burden by myself.
Lead me to share. Take me to the place.
Give me peace. Keep your fire burning in me.
Let me return and be with them.