Every woman’s story surrounding pregnancy, or non-pregnancy, is deeply personal. And the abortion debate can only be honestly discussed at that personal level. Yet not everyone is worthy of being entrusted with these stories. Legislators certainly are not. Yet here we are… again.
Given the current humanitarian crisis in Gaza, I am learning more daily about the ongoing conflict between the nation-state of Israel and the Palestinian people living in the occupied territories of Gaza and the West Bank. I cannot help but grieve that yet again, the spirit of Empire is overshadowing the Kingdom of God to the detriment of the Abrahamic faiths: Jews, Muslims, and Christians alike.
Once upon a time, there was a little boy. His name was Firstborn. He was the sun and moon and stars to his parents. There had never been another child to ever rival this one. Beyond unique, he was truly, as his name suggests, a firstborn, in every way a firstborn might be understood. He not only received complete adoration from his mother and father but true admiration as well. They had never seen a child in the world grow up and learn and adapt and change and delight like him before. They had also never navigated the terrible twos, horrible threes, and fierce fours before either. It was a learning curve for everyone.
I originally penned this essay back in 2018. That seems like such a long time ago. Pre-pandemic…I guess it really was a different world then. But the fable of the 10 Blind Men and the Elephant is timeless and, in the ever-increasing disruption of social media, perhaps never more important to talk about. Perspective. Let’s discuss the elephant in the room.
Here’s my latest epiphany. It hit me while I was driving to my parents’ house, quietly meditating on the Aramaic Jesus.* Here is what energized my thoughts: God is living and breathing and has His being through his creation. God experiences consciousness through creation. I am part of God’s creation. Therefore I am part of God’s consciousness. God is experiencing life THROUGH me.
In the land of Comfort, everything looks normal. Nothing out of place. Not.one.thing. Which is what is bothering me. It’s too familiar, too orchestrated towards perfection. Tailored specifically to appease me and my tastes. So that I feel calm. But I’m not. I know something’s not right. I just can’t put my finger on it. The comfortableness is like a numbing drug. It removes me from any hint of pain or suffering.
I originally wrote this last year on December 20th, 2022, to be exact. It feels timely to launch Chasing Dragons | Hiding in Caves with it now, on the eve of day 7 of a (temporary) cease-fire in the war between Israel and Hamas, where innocent lives are being lost around the ideology of land and identity.