I woke up this morning and was thinking about chance, fate, luck, faith, however it is that I live so securely in a little town in SE Indiana. The things I have on my mind this morning I suspect are far from those things my counterpart in Damascus would have on her mind this morning. I do not start my day giving any thought whatsoever to being gassed with chemical weapons or preparing for a missile strike. I have an abundance of food, as do my pets. I am surrounded by choice. Should I have the Kenyan, organic Yukon, or Columbian coffee? Will it be eggs or waffles? I have plenty to read. I can reach out to my loved ones and friends without effort trusting that my phones or my Internet or my vehicle or even my legs can carry and convey me to them. I hear tree frogs and cicadas of the early morning no whistling bullets no fear of walking barefoot in my own yard. My trash pickup came on time without interruption. The running water in my home made washing my dishes easy, doing a load of laundry automatic, taking a shower welcome on this muggy morning. School buses make their way to pick up children who wait openly by the roadside for another day at school. But somewhere in Damascus today a woman about to turn 50 like me can say none of those things. She had a different morning beginning hours ago. I don’t even know her name. But she is there. And I am thinking of her.
Healthcaring Committee Chair at Oldenburg Franciscan Center