I went for a run this morning.
I was supposed to be finishing off an assignment and making a good start on the next one.
I was supposed to be putting dinner into the slow cooker, and relishing in all-the-kids-at-school Friday vibes.
But the images that I repeatedly scrolled past in my Facebook feed had caught up with my soul.
Babies dying with their mothers. Political fear-mongering. A country whose very national anthem states we have boundless plains to share yet turns away those in need of safety.
All those things I try hard not to think too much about came crashing down about me this morning after I took my privileged Australian children to be educated in the safety of their free public school.
So I ran.
I ran because I’m no social commentator, I ran because I don’t understand, I ran because I’m ashamed to call myself a Christian when I am so often slow to action, I ran because of the comments I had seen.
I ran – avoiding thoughts of babies and children just like mine in places they shouldn’t be.
And I care too much even writing these words, and the caring is messy and it hurts.
But do you know what the caring does?
It puts life in perspective, it prioritises, and it calls me deeper.
A podcast on my run spoke directly to my soul. God spoke directly to my soul, through the voice of Erwin McManus, who said
I want to be a person who discovers how deeply I can be alive because I have cared with every fibre of my being.
We can’t not care. But that caring can’t keep us immobile.
We have to let the caring take us deep, even if it’s uncomfortable.
Even if it means we spend the rest of the day swinging from emotional to flat and back again.
Because caring means we feel deep and we pray deeper.
Pray for our leaders.
Pray for our government.
Pray for our cities.
Pray for our families.
And then let prayer move us to action.