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Writer's pictureYerusalem Work

The Long Run

An extraordinary professional photographer, Ahmed with his dark hair and light skin was bent on contrast. This was beauty like the night of countless stars and pitch-black skies. He held an expensive camera above his head to capture images of people dancing in the center of a circle at a family friend’s high school graduation. It was as if Ahmed lifted up his own son high over his shoulders—exalting the stunning next generation or just plain hero worshiping like in “The Lion King.” Who else cannot wait to be king?


Children are both our hope and dream. Sometimes, parents worship their children or vice versa. It is only fitting we remind ourselves that God is high above the prospect of having children. Surah Ikhlas teaches us that God does not beget and is not begotten. It’s a short, but weighty chapter of the Quran—measuring up to one-third of the Holy Book in essence.


The music blared at the graduation party until the sound of a bomb exploding eclipsed it. Bodies lay flat. Blood splattered everywhere in the fashion of a Jackson Pollock painting. An extremist group claimed responsibility for the deaths—the murders. The massacre left debris in the dining hall reserved for the party on this special occasion turned sour.


Not everyone welcomes a Western education or gender desegregation in public places. Not everyone remembers the ancient Greeks left violence off-stage in theatrical plays. Some instead wield the mighty power of terror on camera as an extension of our memory. If all the world is a stage or set, it is also a war zone. As Keynes remarked, “In the long run, we’re all dead.” Conflict speaks volumes and silences those who don’t otherwise surrender. Who are we but a captive audience staring at a blank page? Death raises the stakes and erases our purpose. Rather, it magnifies our purpose: to worship God alone. Surely, these are the last days. We ought to study His ways.





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