Living History

I wish I knew what to say.  I have a hard time going on with blogging as normal when so much of my heart is taken up with the world events.

My heart is broken for Paris and all those in the crossfire of so much violence and hate. 

My heart is broken for the Syrian refugees.

My heart is broken for my own country, who through fear and their own heartbreak, are fighting over what we should do or not do to help.

Do we take in more refugees or do we close our doors and lock them tight?

Do we put soldiers on the ground and enter this fight full force or do we step back and attempt to stand clear?

Is there even anywhere we can go that offers the option of standing clear?  And if so, how do we take that step, when so many others are losing their lives, their homes, their families, in this fight.

I don't know.  I shared this thought and image on Facebook yesterday, and as it does the best to sum up my current thoughts, I will share it here as well. 

For those of you who have never been to the Holocaust museum in DC, I hope you someday have the chance to go and become immersed in the heartbreaking history. There are moments when, as a nation, our willingness to show love and compassion define us. I strongly believe we are at another one of those moments in time.

I am at a loss over some of the hate fear I am seeing on Facebook and other social media outlets.  Usually we go day to day without thinking of where we fit in history, but in these moments, when the world feels on the brink of war, it is hard not to feel the future weight of our decisions, our action or inaction, on the course of history. I hope we can find a way to make the right decisions, to make future generations proud of where we made our stand.