Then a Tear Kissed My Pillow

pink tulips

Last night, I sat in my hello kitty sweats and surfed Fakebook (that’s not a typo). The TV news played in the background.

“Friends” on the social media site posted pictures and stories and funnies, and I scrolled down to peer into their lives.

Then the TV screen caught my eye.

The faces of Syrian children, parents, grandmothers and teens knifed their way into my heart. Ragged and starving and exhausted by the journey of leaving everything, their faces haunted me and pierced a knife through my heart.

My heart bled tears and I could feel the pain of their stories deep in the kaleidoscope of my soul. This isn’t a new experience for me, as I’ve always felt the pain of such crises and have done what I could to help by volunteering time and resources.

But for the last few years, as Americans glue our eyes to FaKebook and Twitter and other social media, people suffer and flee and die from starvation.

The contrast of the “haves” and the “have-nots” sliced the world in two. I’m not saying this to make a political statement, but to unveil the tragedy of contrast.

Something – many things – are wrong with this picture. The rough edges of reality cut deeply.

I turned off the lights and crawled into my warm bed, read my Nook. and prayed. My spirit cried and I prayed for some time for the families.

Then a tear kissed my pillow.~


 (Coming soon to a blog near you; “Is it Facebook or FaKebook?”

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