Published by the Center for Prophetic Imagination
Do you think they will believe me?” He asked with desperation, scars visible and invisible. How do I answer such a question? “I don’t know.”
“Do you think they will separate me from my child?” She asked clutching her sleeping 2 year old. How do I answer such a question? “I don’t know.”
“Why won’t they let us stay together?” Husband and wife ask with their child’s legs on daddy’s lap and her head on mommy’s. How do I answer such a question? “I don’t know.”
“Tengo miedo.” (I am afraid.) I am too. “Reza por mi.” (Pray for me.) “Dios – – – –
An old man, probably young in years, rattles off questions and fears and memories so fast I can’t catch the Spanish words. “Algunos dias son malos,” I say. (Some days are bad.) “Hoy as malo, muy malo,” he agrees. “Recuerda su valor,” I urge. (Remember your courage.) “Recuerda que es un buen hombre.” (Remember you are a good man.) “Dios esta contigo.” (God is with you.)
I do not know how to answer these questions. I do know this:
God is not with us. God is crossing the border, and we have left God to the gun, and the cell, and the crucifixion.