Saturday night tends to be our once a week pizza experience. Carli and Whitney anticipate and plot their toppings well in advance, expressing wails of complaint when there even seems like the slightest chance that we will not make the phone call and make the run to pick up the pies. Company, activities, and recent meals do not seem to make a difference; if it is Saturday night then it must be pizza.
I cannot imagine how I would respond to a terrorist bomb explosion in the quiet village of Walton on Thames; especially if I was forced to watch the paramedics work on the two girls while I happen to be outside, comfortable, and safe. When I think of the chances, I realize the terrible things happen in this world to innocent people. Babies and young children die in their strollers. Teenagers innocently die and are severely injured taking orders and providing service to families ordering all kinds of pies. Is there anyway to express one’s horror and undercurrent of fear?
I know and believe that “a thick bankroll is no help when life falls apart, but a principled life can stand up to the worst.” (Proverbs 11.4) It is almost too easy to echo these phrases; yet, what would I do if I found myself caught in the middle of the results of a successful terrorist act? Would my cries for revenge and blood be any quieter than those I can hear echoing on the news? Would I trust in the hope that God offers each, or take up the sword?
I struggle with this question every time I find myself anywhere near a situation with kids under attack that are near my own. It is my daughter facing the stranger at the door, who dies through strangulation. It is my daughter being assaulted in the hallway of her own apartment. Then I remember that God facing the same question as He watched His son innocently die on a cross. I do not understand, yet I will trust and praise God and His ways.
