I love Jimmy Buffet songs.
This one was always one of my favorites.
The timeline is kind of different, but the first few verses summed up most of my life, except I went to Key West and married a P.T.A. name Mare...
" And all of the answers, to all of the questions, got locked in his attic, one day...
and twenty more years slipped away."
I have a lot of those questions coming back today.
and they are bothering me so...
How does a Christian deal with refugees leaving war torn countries, trying to escape and protect their wives and children, much as I would; attempting to foster hope in an impossibility of death and destruction?
How do we deal with the fact that intermingled in the innocents are predators and terrorists that want nothing more than to destroy anything not fitting their belief system?
And what do we do, when we realize it is completely impossible for us to tell them apart?
That last question haunts me...
Where do the duties of a vigilant Shepard give way it's precedence to be a Good Samaritan ?
How do we dutifully accomplish both, without being derelict in either?
I mentioned that these questions bothered me so, didn't I ?
I am completely at a loss, here...
I am of two minds and two spirits in direct opposition to each other, and have no way, it seems, to reconcile...
I have a Covenant with God, my Wonderful Wife and I, where i swore to love, honor and protect her. As a father, I am to provide an environment that keeps my children safe.
As a Veteran, I took an oath to protect this country from all enemies, foreign and domestic...
As a Christian, I accepted His forgiveness and became willing to accept the commands given me, to love my enemies as He loved me...
That is much more demanding than it first sounds...
To love those beheading and mutilating us, bombing and shooting and removing any illusion of peace or safety we had conveniently lulled ourselves into believing we had...
I don't think I can do that...
I can't even honestly claim that I want too...
This is the crux of my problem and seed of my dilemma...
I want them to become lovable or at least tolerable; to not be a threat to the ones I love and the country I am obliged by oath, to protect...
So I lean away from commands given, in favor of what I want to justify...
Not a good feeling, for a man who wants to love and honor his God...
But doesn't, by ignoring His commands and wishes..
So I struggle with this, as I have struggled with almost all of this walk I bumble thru, fighting obedience in a twisted spite, until the eventuality of Gods Grace gets me past the present battle, in bruised victory, only to land on another plateau of " No... Never..."
The story of my life.
When I signed up for this I thought it would be so much easier.
More regimented, perhaps, more legalistic and better defined...
But easier, still...
In reality, the struggles past the Words have proven to be more difficult than the Words, themselves; knowing how to " reconcile" the confusions found, is much more of a challenge.
I think of Paris tonight, as I ponder the questions.
I pray for them.
I pray for us.
I pray for " them"
But mostly I pray for me, that God will do His work in my defiant soul and change it, giving willingness, wisdom and strength to know and follow it...
He hears me, along with thousands of desperate, pained prayers continents away...
He hears them. He is with them.
He went to Paris...
And everywhere else.
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