Forgive a bit of digression. This is also not an attempt at conversion. Please do read, however.
I don't know how you are on the belief scale. I follow Jesus.
30 minutes ago, I had the worst dream I had ever had. I dreamed I, and someone else, shot the 1-year old version of my oldest daughter (she is 5) and then had to fling her on a trash heap. I was wracked with weeping. I have never felt such depth of despair and sorrow. When I woke to find her still alive, I still couldn't shake the realness of the dream, so I prayed that I might forget the dream. I was clearly told that I could not forget it, that in fact I might as well be committing those actions because right now, representatives of my country -- who I pay for and educate -- are murdering babies halfway across the world. And I could not forget it because God is angry and God's people need to know that. I then wrote a very short poem. Here it is.
is worth a murdered child.
We've got to stop the war today.
And then I wandered down here and posted this, after forwarding it to a few friends. At 3:42 in the morning.