I smile as I rub the small of my one-year-old daughter’s back, feeling the gentle rise and fall of her deep breaths.
It had been such a long day, as we battled her discomfort while a cold attempted to take hold inside of her tiny body.
But tonight, she slept. She was safe in my arms, her sniffles finally subsiding while a cool breeze gently rattled the window of our farmhouse.
I let out a thankful sigh. She was safe.
Tonight, there are many people in this world who cannot say the same. There are families who have been torn apart, who have been killed, due to political unrest in Syria.
Some are seeking refuge in America…and I’m not sure how I feel about that.
On one hand, I couldn’t even begin to imagine what their families have endured, and I believe we should welcome them with open arms.
And then with the other, I recoil back, fearful of what opening our borders to these refugees might mean. While in general, the refugees aren’t our enemy, what if they are harboring our enemy? What if we are inviting terrorists into our nation?
I hold my daughter a little tighter.
She would no longer be safe.
I listlessly flip the pages of my Bible and my eyes focus on the words of the page.
You have heard that it was said, ‘You shall love your neighbor and hate your enemy.’ But I say to you, love your enemies, bless those who curse you, do good to those who hate you, and pray for those who spitefully use you and persecute you, that you may be sons of your Father in heaven…
Oh Lord, I’m not sure I can do that. I turn to another page.
Whoever hits you on the cheek, offer him the other also; and whoever takes away your coat, do not withhold your shirt from him either.
Does God really know what He is asking of us?
To truly love all people with abandon? To pray that our enemies are not destroyed, but that the Lord will grant them the faith to believe in our Lord Jesus?
That’s just too hard.
I simply want to continue rocking my sleeping daughter, and forget about the woes of the world. To remain inside the small ‘safe zone’ that I’ve concocted inside of my mind.
I’ve forgotten where my safety truly comes from…forgotten that the Lord is my light and my salvation. Whom shall I fear? (Psalm 27:1)
Not a thing in this world can come to pass without being sifted through God’s hand first.
I don’t know the answer to the Syrian refugee crisis, but I do know that the Lord who cares for you and I also cares about the plight of millions of refugees. In Him we are safe…and in Him is where we should put our trust.