My co-worker is applying for the National Guard. It makes sense. He would be a good guy for it. He went through many of the perks to joining the military (i.e. bonuses, stipends, rank status...), and to be quite honest, it all sounded pretty appealing (mostly because the National Guard hardly sees combat). As we were talking I found that part of him wanted to join the military as a reaction to what the Tyrant leader of North Korea has threatened to do: nuke South Korea. Why? Probably not even North Korean military higher-ups know why, much less the closed-countries innocent civilians. This got me thinking.

There are so many people in the world who have a rich and dynamic story to tell - some that would set them free, and some that would get them killed. Millions live below poverty lines or under some sort of oppressive iron fist. And for what reason?

Only God knows.

As one who is not particularly fond of physical violence, my response to this issue occurs in a secret desire to document these stories; to write about the unnecessarily imprisoned. Think about it: an average day in your life produces many events (and perhaps even turn-of-events) that cause you to want to go and tell others about your story. For example, on your routine drive to work you witness a potentially fatal 5-car pile-up, leaving people screaming and cars on fire. I'd bet my 401k (ha!) that the first thing you do is tell somebody.

That said, think of the stories of North Korean mothers who are told to abort their baby daughters, or even just their second-born child. For nine months they carry a death-sentence for one who will never see the light of day. Imagine the torment, agony, and hatred that must develop for these women.

I confess, however, that to merely write for my own amusement on such an issue seems just short of malicious--I'd be a reporter of everyday destruction in the lives of people, and then I'd go home and eat dinner with my happy, white family. No. Writing has consequence, and like the odd kid out who witnesses a bully pounding a puny kid, our voicelessness exudes injustice.

All this to realize that I'm in no position to hop over enemy lines and gather the dirt, much less write about it. But I can, and I challenge you to pray and keep watch for an opportunity to be a voice for the voiceless.