The news from Kenya fills me with sorrow as there is no end to the violence. Indeed, it is increasing - 700 killed since just after Christmas. I fear for our friends there - we have heard little of how they are faring. Most Kenyans are sitting tight, trying to live normal lives amid the spreading unrest, longing for the political situation to be resolved so that peace returns to the country.
I am praying for these dear friends: for safety, for peace in the midst of turmoil, for their country. Yet, to my shame, I cannot let myself dwell on it much. Behind the door marked 'Kenya' in my mind lies another, hideous and unspeakably ugly, named Terror.
I cannot let my heart remember those feelings of terror: the threat of violence; the fear of strange and unfamiliar noises; the dread of repeated robbery, bringing with it emotions so strong that my teeth would chatter with fright and I would sweat restlessly through the night; the worry that a loved one's failure to come home on time might mean that they had been carjacked, taken to a remote area, possibly killed; the ever-present alertness and sense of purpose needed when walking on foot in town, in an effort to avoid being mugged. I cannot let myself feel again the need to be permanently on the alert, to survive.
My mind can tolerate these things; my heart cannot bear to feel them. I pray my friends' hearts are kept in peace and safety.