After the Last Tear Falls (A Prayer for Israel)

I sit at my desk, light streaming through the huge window beside me, fluffy gray clouds floating through the blue sky overhead. Since Open House yesterday, when the guys and girls had a chance to visit each others’ dorms, I have realized my room is not as amazing as I thought it was, and it’s certainly not decorated as nicely. And yet… it feels like too much.

I think of the events I witnessed earlier, thanks to the internet. The concert-goers, some of whom happened to turn around and realize that the spots in the sky behind them were paragliders, and the flashes were rockets. Foreign paragliders, unfriendly rockets. I think of the frantic escape across the desert that ensued; of those who made it out safely, and those who were left lying in the sand, never to rise again. And more still, taken by force, captive, to a land where they are not welcome. I think of the elderly, the parents, the children, the babies, whose lives will never be the same again, if they are blessed enough to keep their lives. I think of the worry, the sleepless night, that many in Israel must have experienced as rockets flashed overhead. I think of the young men, hundreds of thousands of them, whose lives were upended completely, unexpectedly, and who are now going to war. I think of their parents, who with little warning had to say goodbye to their children, possibly forever.

And this isn’t the only place. Ukraine, Myanmar, and a host of countries in Africa. But from our desks, big windows, and blue skies, we’ve forgotten about those. Our thoughts focus primarily on our own government, and which of the two parties will win the next election. It’s our own little war, I guess, a war of words and promises meant only to be broken.

Truly, the earth is waxing old like a garment… Just as the Prophet Isaiah predicted.

I think of the Israeli flag my friend hung on her backpack today, its blue star shining in the sunlight as she walked across campus. Her family is in Israel, and many more friends and relatives besides…

It feels wrong to be content here. I pray that each of us would do what we can to heal this hurting world, bathing it in the unconditional grace and love of our infinite God. And someday soon, His cloud will appear, where He’ll ride, victorious, to claim His long lost kids. He’ll catch us up to meet Him in the air, my Bible says, and wipe the last tears from our eyes with His own hand. Then we’ll hear His voice, ringing with excitement, yet gentle and soft, as He turns our faces to His and says, “my child, I’m so happy to see you. Let’s go home.”

I think Andrew Peterson described that scene well, in the last verse of His song, “After the Last Tear Falls”:

‘Cause after the last plan fails, after the last siren wails, after the last young husband sails off to join the war:

There is love; love, love, love;
There is love.

And in the end, the end is oceans and oceans of love and love again;
We’ll see how the tears that have fallen were caught in the palms
Of the Giver of love and the Lover of all,
And we’ll look back on these tears as old tales…

‘Cause after the last tear falls, there is love.

Until then, let’s pray for Israel, and all the other hurting places on this earth. And as we raise our voices together in prayer, let’s go out in God’s strength, and heal this hurting world. Together. Savior, save us now. 🇮🇱