hope

The recent war in Lebanon has me alternatively sputtering profanities and fantasizing about dope-slapping Condi Rice, and fighting the sinking feeling I get in the pit of my stomach when I think about the Draft and the fact that I have a son who will be 18 one day. Neither of these is particularly productive. So instead of trying to articulate my own feelings of anger and frustration on the matter, which is ultimately self-centered anyway, I am urging you to go read Steph's latest post about hope. Then read it again. And then say a little prayer for peace.