Write these words. On a postcard. Today.

Abbey arches looking out to a field, 2015
Approx. read time: 1:30 min.
In the early quiet of a recent morning, a thought comes to me.
More than a thought: an assignment, really, with a subtle force of urgency: Write these words. On a postcard. Today.
And these are the words that arrive:
Dear Secretary Blinken:
The madness of the Russia/Ukraine situation is unsustainable.
I ask you to deliver these words to Russian President Putin:
__________________________________________________________
Dear Mr. Putin:
The people of Ukraine do not want you as their leader. Many of them now are dead. Many have fled. Those who remain want their lives back. They want their homes back, and their sense of home, and peace, and prosperity.
Your people want the same: a sense of home, and peace, and prosperity.
You hold the power to do good in this world. Please, unleash the good power now. No one will call you weak. They will call you amazing.
Respectfully,
__________________________________________________________
I will know that my message was delivered when the unimaginable happens.
Or, maybe the message will be delivered and nothing will happen.
I think, now, of the prophet’s assignment: Write these words! Speak these words!
And of course, the assignments are utterly impractical, setting the prophet up for rejection and certain failure.
But the long-term effects of the prophet’s words had power to shake loose old ways and create new openings in ossified hearts.
So on this quiet morning, I lean, nonetheless, with all my heart, into the power that flows from Jesus’ resurrection.
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Be well. Live in peace. Love one another.