I wish we loved the refugees from below the US border as much as we are externally concerned about Syrians. So many little faces fleeing civil unrest from Central America, Latin America, and the Carribean. I know that the reason we don’t love them like we are showing concern for Syria is because those refugees are thousands of miles away, while the ones among us are so close to home to be a threat to us. How can we believe it’s just and fair to accept some refugees, and damn others? When providing what the body of Christ and his children here on earth need is no longer glamorous, does anyone legitimately care? Spending today without much memories of September 11th because at the time, I was just 7 years old. We were born into a radical world, and in a radical world we have aged. Is it so hard to find room in our hearts for what we know is “other”? I don’t understand how we can think that building a higher fence is what Jesus would have wanted. His brokenness was laid down for all of these barriers we raise between one another, setting other people’s effigies on fire to prove a point. I wish I knew how he plans on judging all of it, because it scares me to see all that goes on beyond the question of a doubt, and without guilt to shame us into repentance. If there is any redemption, it comes from God. My hope and joy that there will be no partiality in this, both before God and everlasting. His will is perfect, and his judgment is sovereign. All people will be shown what the truth is and what it means to measure up when we understand the glory that is in Christ. Until that day, we are just waiting, and doing the best we can to bear with one another. Still, amidst us are these giant valleys of blood. I pray that we can stay awake, and keep watching.