top of page

A Matter of Perspective

There is an ache in my heart that I can’t describe to you. It is an ache and a burden for people in a faraway country. I can’t pronounce most of their names but I feel a kinship with them in a way that I haven’t felt for someone in a long time.

I am talking about the people of Ukraine.

I have been talking with my friend from Ukraine. You can read the first part of her story in this week’s paper. Listening to her describe what is going on in her home country (she has been a United States citizen for the past 20 plus years) is heartbreaking. She doesn’t just hear and see what is on the news but also gets the story firsthand from her family who still lives there.

Some of the photos that we are sharing are photos that were taken or shared by her friends who live in Ukraine.

I don’t know what I expected the people of Ukraine to look like—I guess just different than me—but they look like me. They look like you. They look like our neighbors and friends and our families. They bleed the same red color when they are hurt. They live, they die, just as we do.

My heart aches when I see the photos of people laying in the streets shot down like dogs. And yes, there are dogs, too. Not only are Russian soldiers shooting the men, women, and children in Ukraine, but they are shooting their dogs, too!

They are looting Ukraine homes and stealing people’s possessions. They are raping the girls—young girls.

This is not just war, this is terrorism. This is hate.

If this doesn’t tear at your heart I am glad for you. Because it is ripping mine to pieces and it is painful.

The photos and videos that my friend has shared with me are horrible and beautiful at the same time. It is hard to explain.

This week’s story was fairly “tame.” Next week I will be sharing more of the graphic details that have been shared with me as they were shared with my friend by her family.

If you are a praying person, pray for a swift end to this rape of an entire nation.

And I hope that your heart does ache—even the slightest—for the people of Ukraine.

Sometimes the monsters under our beds do exist.



bottom of page