Lately, I've noticed the effect of instant information. The week before Thanksgiving, the house of some friends in Colorado burned down. We only see them about once a year, but I got the news the very next day via Facebook. Then, two days ago, I got up to this status message on a friend's Facebook: "P- is thinking of his neighbors... whose house is burning down right now!"
There I am, going about my day, knowing that someone's house is burning. It's a rather strange feeling. And overwhelming. I just know about too many people's struggles. I can get daily updates on the recovery of someone I've never met. I hear about job losses and personal struggles from all over.
It's like the old-fashioned prayer chain (of which my mother is still a part) on steroids. "Please pray for John's step-uncle's neighbor in Kalamazoo who just broke his ankle." I've become aware of persecuted Christians in the Sudan and China, of famines and natural disasters, of wars in every part of the globe.
And I feel like I become hardened to it. It's not that I don't care, however. It's just that I can't deal with it. There is so much pain. I can't pray. If I start the list, it never ends.
And I also find myself confused about how prayer works. To what extent does it "do anything"? If I pray harder, does it "force God's hand"?
So I find myself paying attention only to those situations directly in front of me, for the time that they remain there. And I pray for what seems to randomly come to mind. Hardly a plan, but it helps keep the vastness of this world's pain at bay.
At least until I figure out how to operate a firehose through the computer.
No comments:
Post a Comment