Tides, Boats, and Injustice

A rising tide lifts all boats.

Great news, I guess, if you happen to own a boat. But for many, a rising tide means flooding and a tougher battle just to tread water.

Last week I told you about my skunk-ape attack. Enduring a mysterious infection was miserable, painful, and scary, but at no time during the ordeal did medical professionals have to ration or re-use equipment. They had plenty of masks and gowns and those funny-looking hair coverings.

Everyone was safe. Even when things became truly dire and I was in isolation, I was never required be alone due to equipment shortages.

I’m grateful, of course, but I’m in this safe, secure boat by God’s grace. And I think gratitude ought to go beyond thanking Him for my boat.

When Jesus spoke about how we treat the least among us, He said we’d find Him among those struggling just to keep their heads above the surface. We’re asked to seek justice. I’m supposed to be aware of, and do what I can for, those in danger of drowning.

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I’m thinking about the kids at the HOME OF HOPE. They’re isolated and afraid, lacking access to resources as current events recall the horrors of past trauma. But the story’s broader than that. It’s about folks in urban and rural America and in countries all around the world.

The story is about injustice, about the sad truth that certain people don’t have boats. The story isn’t about winning political arguments, owning liberals or bashing conservatives, or about the media spinning one point of view or another.

When I’m tempted toward that divisive story, I hope I’ll remember.

By God’s grace, I have a good, solid boat. Lots of folks, like our kids at the HOME OF HOPE, don’t.

That’s unjust.

We’re not called to argue about it. We’re called to do what we can to make it right.

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