Painful Dinner Conversations

 

Last night we watched the news together as a family. We saw a brief heart-breaking glimpse of a man being crucified, of bodies strewn around, and people reportedly buried alive. We heard traumatic reports of heads being severed and attached to poles and cars. We watched as men were miserably roped together and forced to hunch over into submission as they were carried away to execution. We heard of children who had fled terror and were dying of starvation and dehydration in the wilderness...of grave crimes against women and children. We heard discussions of Robin Williams' suicide and the darkness of depression.

My beautiful eight year old daughter tenderly said, "Mom, why are they doing that?" and we talked about evil and suicide and suicide-attempts close to us (four that we know of in our family), and why we are so thankful to have our hope in Christ. We talked about death, and depression, and evil around the dinner table, as natural as breathing. My daughters responded in deep compassion, my son in righteous anger. I saw little glimpses of their developing characters as empathizers and warriors. It was a bit surreal, and not what I had planned when I woke up this morning, but am I glad that we can talk to our kids and pray that they will choose to talk to us when they need to.

I recognize that it is easier to stay in suburban mom-world than to face and discuss the harsh realities that many face every day. It is easier to pretend that conquered peoples were only treated so heinously in times gone by, in other parts of the world. It is easier to stay busy in carpooling kids' activities and fussing over what to make for dinner and our own well-being, than to engage in brokenness and gut-wrenching conversations about other's pain and suffering.

Although I grieve in prayer over world events, and it is painful to have to my innocent ones begin to be aware of the deep level of sin in the world, I am thankful that we can talk, and pray, and even act, like my friend Brenda who returns to Syrian refugee camps in September. I am thankful for conversations about pain, and pray that my babies will be well-prepared to face the ugly parts of living in a fallen world with hope and conviction. I recognize that it is now time to begin praying as a family for peace in our broken world. I pray that God will use our family to somehow shed his light in the dark places around us, and around the world, and that we will continue to trust him for things we can't understand.