When Churches Burn & We Are Shopping Amazon. Confessions from an American Housewife.

I gasp.  On twitter.  I see it there….

A child extracted from it’s dead pregnant mother, pierced.  Crucified, in it’s own way.  Seeing Jesus, months before she has even breathed.

And life sinks from me. I cannot inhale again.  I am empty, breathless. Just like that mom, that infants.  Unable to feel the sting of those who hate.

Did the child have a name?  Was it hours before she hoped to see the light of day?

As a Christian mom, adoptive, foster parent….my call is to save children.

Yet, children are being used, like human shields by Morsi supporters in Egypt.  Children sacrificed for some cause, some determination to spread a religion worshiping Allah…to all throughout the world.

While I sit in my spacious house, surrounded by fields.  Scanning Facebook, Twitter….sitting comfortably in my apathy, ignorance….my resistance to hear the truth.

Yet, Christ has made us courageous.  Calling us to not only hear the truth, but be the truth.

Contrary to some Word of Faith, Positive Thinking Guru’s who say we must shut ourselves down, like this laptop in sleep mode.  And hide from the world, if we want to exist, live, sustain any kind of confidence…or supposed self-esteem.

I shun the ignorance of that blind thinking, the dead existence that fails to reach out and love others.  I turn on my screen again.  And see the world through truth’s eyes.

For in my gospel, Christ didn’t run from negativity, lies, those that may have despised Him….He ran to the face of truth behind the shroud.  He saw the person behind the mask.  He got behind the head, the actions, the hate…to see the heart.
  
He challenged false teachers.  Running to lepers, prostitutes, those polluting the temples in their own way…in His day.

Not content sitting back on his mountain, with his disciples surrounding him in isolation.  He went down to the valley. Facing valiantly, the reality of civilization.  Willingly embracing the cross of his affliction….

Still I complain that Starbucks isn’t open.  Or that I can’t find the right code to get a discount while shopping for items I don’t need…at Amazon.

Where did life go wrong.  My life.  When churches are being burned, schools, orphanages are set on fire.  And we can be content turning our backs on it all…non-nonchalantly eating dinner?

Aren’t believers in other countries…our brothers?  Our sisters?  When they are being martyred…killed ravenously in the name of Allah…shouldn’t we at least stop…look up…and pray?

And why is it enough for us to not get involved. Not look.  Turn away.  Because the truth of it all is far too disturbing? The reality that Christian girls are being raped violently.  Or that last year there where crucified believers pierced to trees,

like a gift, in front of the palace where Morsi lived.

Why?  Why am I too busy to stop my life? Get down and cry? Weep, shed tears (offering pieces of my own life) for those who are dying?  Instead of scanning Hulu or Netflix for something that makes us feel good.

I don’t want to be one of those type of Christians.  One of those lost in how I will decorate my house, or cook to impress people I may never see again.

I want to invest my life with weeping, tears, and laments for the reality of Christians in Egypt.  Christian’s everywhere….being martyred, persecuted, tormented for what they believe in.

After all, if this same persecution came here….to America….

Would I want the world to be sitting sipping tea?  Or would I want them to be advocating for us here, voicing the cries of us people?  Kneeling, praying, pleading for us martyred, tortured?

Isn’t it time we choose to see?