Syria, the Selective Service and Soul-Healing Peace
My darling husband is a realist. He often accuses me of looking at the world through rose-colored glasses and on more than one occasion I have told him that it is simply no fun to drink from a glass that’s half-empty.
He reads the daily newspaper cover to cover every morning and more often than not greets me as I walk into the kitchen with, “Do you want to know what Syria is up to today?”
I give him the same exasperated response each day, “No, I do NOT want to know what Syria, or any other rogue nation for that matter, is up to today. It will not change a thing on my to-do list. Now, let me get by you to the coffee maker!”
He functions better with full disclosure details of what’s out there that poses a threat to our family; I do not. There was a time in my life when those thoughts consumed me with fear, so I have developed a concerted regimen that protects me from dissolving over things I cannot control—I don’t read much of the newspaper; I don't watch much of the news; and I pray, pray, pray.
I do this because we have two boys—two sweet, kind, tender, funny boys, and their father (that same pragmatist who keeps an eye on the Middle East for us) and I am mushy-gushy in love with them. Yet, every year at back-to-school time we sign a form that allows our district to release their name and other personal information to the Selective Service board when they turn 18. And, every year at that same time we run through our “what if” options: 1) deferment through college enrollment—realistic and legal, 2) a spontaneous trip to see our good friend in Canada—carries with it the messy treason charges; and 3) releasing them into the care of the God who loves them more than we could ever fathom—seems like the best choice. The world is unstable and evil is a true and present danger. But He is sovereign and sees time in a way that we cannot. So, we submit our children to Him because they were not ours to begin with, and He never fails to heal our souls:
And the peace of God, which surpasses all understanding, will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus—(Philippians 4:7, ESV).
Christ is our perfect comfort and His perfect love casts out fear; He is balm for anxious hearts in a world which includes an Enemy that wants to devour us. I know that’s how the realist I married is able to keep up with the news without it changing his own tender, kind, and compassionate heart… even if it doesn’t prevent him from scouring the Internet this morning to see if the cinnamon rolls in our refrigerator are part of the recall he just read about in the paper.
Sometimes being a realist really puts a damper on our breakfast plans.
Written by Sonia Cleverly
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