heartbreak

I was poking around on the BBC website yesterday morning when I saw this: Johannesburg Violence. My friend Amber, who is still over there, also gave an update on her blog about the situation.

Apparently, groups of black South Africans are rioting and attacking immigrants, blaming them for the widespread poverty, hunger, unemployment, and homelessness. My heart is breaking.

This is where I lived, where a part of my heart still is. I walked some of those streets, possibly saw some of those people. And though I can understand the frustration and anger behind these acts (feeling helpless about your economic situation, your survival) and the appeal of creating a scapegoat...it is horrible.

I hate that people are living in fear. I hate that the violence of a few is controlling the lives of so many. I hate that they are in such a hopeless situation. I hate that they feel there is nothing they can do but react in violence. I hate the inequality and oppression that still exists there. I hate it, hate it, hate it.

I fear for the women that I worked with. I fear for Joyce, who is an immigrant herself. I fear for the children, who have already been exposed to so much violence.

And this is on top of the growing casualty list in Myanmar and China. So much violence, death, destruction, all around the world. And I so desperately want God to just come down and make it all better. But that's not how God works. And so I continue to wrestle with my own heartbreak and anger over the suffering of so many innocent people.