I’m praying to you but I don’t know who you are. My grandparents used to pray to God, but now lots of people say there is no such person and anyone who’s religious is just imagining it. And other people say there is, but not the one that Christians call God, the one who had a son called Jesus. They have other names for their god. Whatever, this is what’s on my mind this week.
Another week, another atrocity. The Mali hotel hostage thing was very different from the Paris attacks, but still another example of the fact that the human race has split into groups which don’t like each other.
What worries me, though, is that there is friction among people within the groups. Like many people, I adapted my Facebook pic with the French flag as a gesture of solidarity, but then immediately you had people saying we cared about Paris but not about things that happened in the rest of the world.
I don’t think that’s true. It’s just that you can’t worry about everything – there just isn’t time. And if I prayed to you about all the bad things that have happened and asked you to look after all the people who need it, but named them (as groups, not individually, obviously) I would be talking to you all day and all night.
I have faith in most of the world leaders and think they’re trying to do a good job, but there is always somebody criticizing them, and the people who do that are not the ones who have to make the decisions.
So what right do I, for instance, have to say that Barack Obama or David Cameron are wrong in what they choose to do? I don’t even know what I would do in their situation.
The French Prime Minister, Monsieur Hollande, says he’s going to get IS for this, but I don’t think he really knows how that would work. He’s just standing up to the people who have harmed his people and his country, so he has to say that, doesn’t he? Otherwise his own people will think he’s not capable of defending them.
It’s like our dog, Zebra. Even when he was a puppy he would be barking like crazy any time someone or another dog went past our house. I don’t know what he thought he was going to do about it if anybody took him up on it, but he was doing his job. And funnily enough, even though he’s as gentle as can be, people who come into the garden – the plumber, the electrician and other visitors – are a bit scared of him because they don’t know him and he could be the kind of dog that bites.
So that’s what Mr. Hollande is doing: he’s barking at the terrorists and because they’re capable of doing terrible things themselves, they probably think he is too.
I just hope it all quietens down and we can go back to being worried about the weather instead. High winds and rain, that’s what I want to be concerned about. Actually I quite like it when there’s a storm going on and the rain is lashing my bedroom window, because I’m safe and sound inside. My dad is the Prime Minister around here and he barks a bit from time to time. Or maybe it’s a coalition with my Mum – she certainly behaves like the boss in certain situations.
Whatever, it’s not me who’s in charge, and most of the time I can carry on quite calmly, as if all is well in the world. Because that’s all I want, really, doesn’t everyone?