Just as Istanbul creates an intersect of two continents it cascades the rush of myriad cultures, languages, and paradigms. Some laugh and enjoy, embracing and affirming it. Others blindly and with contempt thinly veiled in mechanical indifference tolerate the necessity of making a living; other have learned the finer skill of sashaying into those few moments in your life to make a sale, confuse the issue, and flit quickly off with their extra earnings and leaving the bewildered tourist wondering her he just got scammed ...
One city. One country. An intersection of the world. While just a few hours away two explosion rip through another crowded, peaceful demonstration, intent on manipulating through terror. Innumerable lives are shattered and devastated; fear, outrage, shock, bewilderment mingle from the blood-stained streets.
Back in Istanbul, waiters perform charming rituals of serving exotic stew, ablaze in sealed crockery, while other diners puff on a bong or sip Turkish tea. Buses bulge down narrow streets; taxi's honk; clerks beckon passers-by to view their wares. Ahhh ... end of another lovely day. Until ...
It almost feels vulgar to settle in now, stomach full, pictures downloaded to appropriate files, senses satiated with (mostly) enjoyable impressions of the day, head swirling with which plan to put into place for tomorrow, will I be able to traverse the area in a wheelchair ...
How many of those who perished today new Christ Jesus? Most probably, none of them. At one point on this journey, sitting in the market place in Usak, the impression of the number of souls for whom Jesus died suddenly was overwhelming, and ALL of those in the busy and bustling life around me were totally unaware that they even had need, let alone know that One such as He loved them so much that He bore the pain and guilt of their shame for them. As the breath-taking weight of that knowledge ascended on me, the greater understanding that He was aware of every one of them took the burden back where it belonged - in the realm of the Holy Spirit. My job then, and today as I grieve for those shattered lives even in the midst of exotic Istanbul, is to pray. To beseech the Lord of the harvest to raise up workers for the harvest.
So, I'll pray; we will all pray. And I'll enjoy what He has given us today with humble thanksgiving and exuberant rejoicing.
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| Hagia Sophia Mosque |
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| Security at Topkapi Palace; Ottoman era |
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| Neal has been a little under the weather, so these can-do Sisters carted their gimpy friend up a fiendish hill, over some rugged cobblestone roads and walks, not a few formidable door jams, and over light rail tracks to visit the Palace and other historic sites. |
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| Bosphorus Straight from Topkapi grounds |
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| Indomitable trio eclipse the Blue Mosque |
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| It was quite a show and produced a delicious stew! |
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