I have no words; I have too many words. And so I have said nothing.
Parisians. Lebanese. Kenyans. Iraqis. Syrians.
All crafted by the same God.
They bleed the same blood. They weep the same tears.
While others draw lines in the sand.
Hate. Love. Fear. Intermingled, confused.
The enemy and the victim look the same—to some.
Whom do you embrace?
Whom do you shun?
Who is worth the risk?
I am grieved.
I am moved.
Plunged deep beyond an anchor’s reach.
The hate scares me most: irrational and dangerous.
A torch waving too close to the tinder.
When fear overcomes love.
When “Christians” cower and spew hate.
Is this how we were created to be? Is this our witness?
Oh God, let it be not so.
Let your truth rise above.
Let it drown out the cacophony of hate.
Let your love surround. Heal. Forgive.
Shore up those whose lives have been burst.
Send your ambassadors, the ones with your word engraved on their hearts.
Rise up the fearless ones who know your perfect love is the necessary balm.
© 2015 Michelle Okabayashi. All rights reserved.