Malaysian air planes vanish into mystery and hundreds of lives are lost and thousands more permanently touched by pain and anger and no answers. Russia predictably flexes and gulps a large chuck of another neighboring nation. Chile shakes and quakes. Europe slumbers and falters, monetarily and socially. America has become her own worst enemy, and Washington, D.C. has become a city of men with no chests as C.S. Lewis would say. The poet from Wales, Henry Vaughan (1622-1695), wrote a poem entitled, Peace. It goes: My soul, there is a country Far beyond the stars, Where stands a winged sentry All skillful in the wars. There, above noise and danger, Sweet Peace sits crowned with smiles, And One born in a manger Command the beauteous files. He is thy gracious friend... If you dont see me trying to carry the load of the world on my narrow shoulders or my face or vexed or overly concerned of world affairs, its not that Im ignorant of the currency of happenings, or glib or self-centered: its just that Ive relieved myself of the responsibility of the final happenings. Ill do my part, in politics, social causes, and ethical/religious realms and leave the outcome to a Friend of mine. Abe Lincoln said, Theres been but one struggle for all of times - good vs. evil. And Im supremely convinced I know who wins that final contest. Thus, I rest, in that truth. m.d.
Posted on: Thu, 03 Apr 2014 12:49:00 +0000
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