3-3-22 SOLIDARITY FLAGS

I realized about an hour into it that it would have been much easier to sit down and write my thoughts about what's happening in Ukraine.  Right now its in the front of most civilized peoples' minds. But who knows, in the distance, and depending on the short and long-term outcomes, this may be misplaced under a pile of other misfortunes that have been hurled against our planet lately. The short of it is that Vladimir Putin, leader of Russia, has sent his forces into Ukraine, bombing and attempting to take the land by force. From the blurred perspective of an ordinary grandmother in America, it seems to be a power play. The Ukranian people have displayed remarkable gumption and courage, standing their ground and taking up arms in their mismatched woolen coats and sneakers. 

It would take a big ole wad of words for me to explain what I know and how I feel. I am not informed enough to speak wisely. But I do feel deep compassion and outrage for Ukrainians. And, surprisingly, I feel a strange compassion for the Russian soldiers who are, 80% of them, compelled to join the armed services and do what they are told. Many, if not most of them, have been forced to do something they would not personally choose to do. My head swirls like a whirlpool sucking down into the unknown information out there in the world.

A Ukrainian grandmother learning combat.

A wounded Russian soldier speaks to his fellow
Russian soldiers from a hospital in Ukraine.

I called Colonial Flag to order some Ukrainian flags for our door and our kids' doors; symbols of solidarity. The clerk said they are all out, that their sewing machines were sewing only Ukrainian flags, but that they could put me on a wait list for when more came in. So, yeah, I ordered five Ukrainian flags for some unknown date in the future.

I think it was two in the morning, lying in bed trying to figure out how to get to sleep, that the idea came to me that I did not have to wait for someone else to sew Ukrainian flags for me. I could do it myself.

So I did.

As I sewed I listened to the Ukrainian National Anthem, performed by various choirs and orchestras. Finally, after multiple grand and robust renditions, there came a solitary unaccompanied woman's voice, shaking as she sang, the sound of broken glass being swept in the background. I stopped sewing to look at the YouTube video on my phone. The woman was sweeping the glass from the window sills of her mother's flat. It had been rattled in the bombing the day before, throwing her elderly mother 10 meters into the hallway, but not killing her. Her daughter, who had come to help clean up, sang until the words stopped, then she looked out through the glassless window over the shattered city and whimpered two words, one I did not understand, the other, "Ukraine." It took me to the place in my mind where I have pictured our Lord, on the night before he lost his life, pausing on the outskirts of Jerusalem, gazing one last time on his homeland as he wept, uttering the words, "Oh, Jerusalem."

I know, or at least I have considerable confidence, that the Lord is conscious of all that is happening to His earth. We try, we little humans, to think like God... to pretend we know what He would do or what He will do. Fact is, only God knows his own mind. But he has told us, repeatedly, that he loves us, and he has a vested interest in our success. So lately I use the "how are things going for me and mine a thousand years from now" mantra and keep plugging along, praying as He told us to, and hoping, as He also told us to. Knowing, regardless of what happens in this moment, that he has the future in his hands.

My Friend Liz posted this today.
Her young daughter is teaching herself Ukrainian.
Look at the words she chose to learn.