I remember when I was a child, looking up into the sky and counting the number of jet streams.  Even in rural Missouri it was common to see two or three long white tales of smoke streaking the blue sky.  I think of those memories with innocence because, as a child, innocence was all I really knew.  Missouri, and the USA as a whole, were thousands of miles away from any potential foreign danger.  

So this week, when I heard a jet flying overhead, I didn't give the sound more than a second's thought.  But the students sitting in front of me hadn't grown up miles away from danger.  When I'd look up into the sky in wonder and excitement, children here looked up into the sky in anticipation and fear.  Was this just any jet flying overhead or was it here to cause destruction?

The students sitting in front of me rushed to the window to locate the noise.  Was this a good or bad jet?  The students sitting in front of me have grown up with war.  Syria, to the north and east, and Israel, to the south, have regularly invaded Lebanon for the past thirty years.  A jet isn't beautiful here.  A jet mens destroyed homes, canceled schools, lost family members.

So I gave them a few seconds to scan the sky and then to take their seats again.  While they reassured themselves that everything was alright, I prayed that they were correct.  While bombs have gone off in surrounding countries recently, Lebanon has experienced almost a full year without fighting.  Old war wounds (mental and physical) have begun to heal.  And although time does heal all wounds, there are almost always scars as reminders.  I believe it's equally as important to pray for the scar as it is the wound.  

Peace/Salaam

Mike