Sometimes when you watch the news on TV you feel interested or concerned, but can't feel anything very deeply because it all seems quite abstract. Not so for me with the news about Libya. Having travelled back through Tripoli just 10 days ago, I can't help but wonder how the air hostesses and stewards are now. The lovely woman who gave Simon a pillow from Business Class, the man who insisted we swap to better seats, the younger man who didn't mind Simon refusing to talk to him when he'd just woken up... Are they in Libya? How are they and their families? And what about the Libyan woman I chatted to on the plane in June, who is living in Canada but has her 12 year old son at school in Libya?
It makes me care more. And grieve more when I see the bodies on the news. I'm glad I can pray, because otherwise I'd feel totally helpless, whereas at least I know I can put this into bigger hands than mine.
It makes me care more. And grieve more when I see the bodies on the news. I'm glad I can pray, because otherwise I'd feel totally helpless, whereas at least I know I can put this into bigger hands than mine.
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