Zucchini bread is baking in the oven (only because it rained this morning and it’s not 90 degrees inside the house) and chai is steaming out of a china cup. And I’m writing. Perhaps the quintessential afternoon for any quiet homebody.

But outside, the world feels so violent and hostile. So virulent, capricious, volatile. More and more I find myself holding these moments tentatively. They feel like a crystal glass dangling above a limestone mosaic of warriors on a hunt.

To our brothers and sisters in Venezuela, our prayers have been with you without ceasing. May God be your Refuge and Strong Tower, may His peace guard your hearts and souls.

To our brothers and sisters in Israel, in Gaza, in the West Bank, in Lebanon, in Ukraine, in China, in Russia…in every part of this terrestrial ball, to quote E. Perronet, we likewise have you in our hearts and prayers. For those of us who as yet are privileged to live in peace, your steadfastness and patience are a daily reminder of the goodness of our God.

To our brothers and sisters in France. How our hearts break for you and your beautiful, rich country! It takes a special grace and strength to stand tall, fearless and unashamed for moral righteousness.

To the United States of America, my birth country: may God have mercy.

How depraved this world is. How God-despising. Yet, how kind of God, really, for preventing those who are His from becoming too comfortable, too established, too contented. It is good to be afflicted, as the psalmist wisely counsels us. Everything within my flesh recoils at discomfort–therefore, it is indeed good.

Even here, in this quiet corner of the world, the Lord providentially works to keep us trusting. No, there are no revolutions here (except social ones). No wars like so many of you (if you don’t count the cartels, but they are so guerrilla civil-war-like and blood-thirsty, it is hard not to). No legal repercussions for preaching the gospel (though some Canada-esq ones are coming through). No communism (yet). But there is still hostility, still the reminder that we are not of this world.

For the last few months, we’ve been going to a nearby town, going door-to-door with texts and gospel cards. A few days ago, the neighbor called our kids over. “Look at this!” she said to them.

They came flying home, disturbed, confused and a bit offended. Someone had taken a picture of our van and posted it on Facebook with a caption something to this affect:

Attention! Parents, be careful and watch out for your children. There is a gringo (yes, this is a slur) man and woman going around town in this van. Take care of your children!!! …insinuating that we were kidnappers and child-traffickers from up north, come to devastate their neighborhood. It was posted on Facebook groups across the Peninsula of Atasta, reaching towns from just before the island of Carmen to Nuevo Campechito, right before the Tabasco border.

Of course, it feels nasty to be accused of such a thing, especially within the context of evangelizing. But of course, the context is precisely what gave rise to the slander. The number of ‘atheists’ has risen exponentially, moral values are at an all time low. God and His gospel are despised more than ever. It was tough a day later to go back to the town and continue like nothing had happened, assuming that everyone who looked at us was thinking, “there they are! the kidnapping gringos.” But it was a good experience not only for us, but for the kids as well. And, good for all the believers who saw the post. Following Christ has a cost and in our culture and time and context, calumny and character assassination is the preferred method. This world, as it goes to pieces, wants us less and less even though they need us more and more.

So, as Aslan would say to Lucy, “Courage, dear heart.” The Lion pads gently through the land and sometimes His terrible roar is heard, reverberating from pole to pole, reminding us all that the Great Renewal is yet to come. And in that kingdom….oh, there are no words.

Even so, come Lord Jesus.