I repeat this phrase to myself all the time. Sometimes as a promise, sometimes (when I'm frustrated) as more of an epithet. I have been meditating on what it means to live as a peacemaker more or less since moving to Haiti. I believe there are ways in my day to day life to practice peace, and I am trying to learn to find them. I definitely don't have it down, even as I write this, I have been wrestling down a snippy tongue all day. That wrestling has felt harder in the last few weeks with the incredible influx of violence streaming in, trying to stifle my words and my hope.
I long for peace in the world around me, for the promises in Isaiah to be fulfilled. I want to see swords made into plowshares and spears into pruning hooks. Lately that hope has felt farther away every time I catch up on world events, or events in my home country. One of my favorite bloggers described it as a summer of sorrow. So I wrestle with the reality in front of me. How do I push for peace for Iraq? For Gaza? How do I turn swords into plowshares in the reality of racism in my home country? How do I live a Resurrection saturated life when Ebola is ravaging West Africa? I don't have answers, although I'm taking suggestions.
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