May I divert from the world of web posting to tackle a somewhat more dire issue.
Here’s the weird thing. I don’t know anybody in Kenya. To my knowledge, I don’t know anybody who knows anybody in Kenya. I know there is civil unrest there right now, I know it’s more horrific than anything I have ever imagined. The crazy thing is, I’ve started having dreams about it.
Dream #1: I am with a lot of wonderful and highly respected people from my church. In Africa, perhaps Kenya, perhaps elsewhere. We are there to help, maybe. We are captured and are held in a large room, and we begin singing, praying, etc. In my dream, I am worried about those I love and the fact I won’t get to tell the goodbye. The room is divided in two; my half is taken into a separate room. We continue praying. I am scared, I know I should be honored to die in defense of my faith, yet I am scared. I wake up just after a gun is pointed at my face. I wake up sweating and heaving.
Dream #2: I am again, in Africa. (Let me take a moment here to mention that several of my friends have immigrated to the U.S. from Zimbabwe. These are incredible people who saw things I cannot imagine in my worst nightmares.) I don’t know where I am, but I am surrounded by homes and churches. My best friend is there. I watch her get killed right in front of me. I am powerless to do anything about it.
Both of these dreams were completely unexpected – to be honest, I hadn’t really been thinking about the situation all that much. But I woke up from both dreams very disturbed, trying to talk myself down by remembering that they were only dreams. Only.
However, the realization that those dreams are reality for the nation of Kenya right now chills me. I wake up from these dreams, safe in my incredibly comfortable bed, listening to my fan gently tell me that there is nothing to fear. I know that when I glance at my door, there will not be a shadow there, but simply a glow from the lamp down the hall. The people of Kenya are not so lucky. They do not wake up from these nightmares.
All this to bring up a very disturbing article I read today. (Please take a moment to check it out.) Valentine’s Day. Valentine’s Day coming up and we may not have enough roses. We may not have flower stores overflowing with beautiful flowers because of the bloodshed happening in Kenya.
I will be honest, I do understand what the article is saying. Flowers are a huge export industry for Kenya, and not being able to export them strikes a blow on their economy. But when I read the article, this was the scenario that my mind jumped to.
Setting: Feb 13, Random Flower Store.
Customer: I need a dozen roses!
Cashier: Sure thing, sir. Good thing you came in when you did, we’re about out!
Customer: Out of roses for Valentine’s Day?
Cashier: Yeah, I heard it’s because of what’s going on in Kenya…
Petty, perhaps. I am just really tired of our culture of being concerned with how things affect US. God forbid I might not get my Valentine’s Day flowers, while the nation of Kenya is being ripped apart and people are watching their loved ones die.
It’s so easy to remove ourselves from the situation. But tonight, as you lie in bed, allow your mind to wander for just a moment. Allow fear to grip you at the thought of waking up to your house burning, or to a person with a knife or gun at your throat. Imagine, just for a moment, the safety of your home being violated and your children having to watch their parents killed. Or you having to watch your parents killed. It sounds so morbid…but if we never even take the time to consider what these people are feeling, how can we say we care?
May our hearts break for them to the point of action. And when you receive or see roses this Valentine’s Day, remember the places they may have seen.
the crisis in Kenya is shocking to many of us. I am Kenyan living away from home so I am not directly affected. However, I have many nightmares– the nature of the violence is brutal and I cannot begin to imagine that there are people living this life everyday!!! Thanks for sharing.