Empty fields. Broken hearts. They have a lot in common.
There is that vast expanse of nothing. And buried deeply life flickers.
But some days, some months, you just have to sit with the vast expanse of nothing but what once was. You have to trust that Peace is there, and yet know that at the moment, you’re not responsible for finding it. Your job is to hang on in the grief.
Ours is to be the Peace that is needed. Blessed be.
It’s just the saddest story. A country that just cut itself in half. Closed down its borders. Never left a moment for people to come together with their families.
Love stories that continued. Love stories that ended. Children that never saw their parents.
Life decided by politics and who knows what else rather than by connection. Life that people continue to tightly control.
I confess I’d never thought about what that line in a country might mean. Well, maybe politically, but never in the sense of broken hearts and lives.
Such sadness. Such a longing for Peace thwarted by needs for power. I feel helpless — but I can tell the story and weave connections so that this cannot be ever again anywhere else. I can try.
