It’s funny how styles come and go. The horn-rimmed glasses my grandparents’ generation wore, and that my parents’ generation laughed at, are now in vogue with my generation.
During one of my trips to Israel, as I was looking around the Church of the Holy Sepulchre, I noticed a peculiar mural on one of the walls. Though dimly lit, I could just make out the ancient image of Jesus stretched out on the cross, the man who crucified him sitting by His head.
He sat across from me, his steel blue eyes examining my own. Those eyes had seen many things during their 80+ years—the forced expulsion from home, death marches, ghettos.
Peace. The hippies sang about it. Congress tries to legislate it. And the United Nations wants to mediate it. And yet, in 2016, we look at our world and, if we are honest with ourselves, we see that our generation is no closer to achieving peace than any of the previous generations were. Civil war rages in Syria. ISIS wreaks havoc on all who stand in their way throughout the Middle East. Race riots and school shootings have erupted in the United States.
Imagine what it would be like if God told you to leave your home, your family, and all you’ve ever known to go to a foreign land because He has …
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