My volunteer work now includes helping manage a shelter for war refugees. We receive even families with children who've fled their homes--literally running for their lives.
When I return to my native Iowa each spring/summer, sometimes people ask me to tell them about what's happening in Mexico. It's hard to answer. When I describe it as best as I can, people usually ask: How can peace be restored? What can we do?
But there is no tidy answer. Right now, no one sees an end to this violence, to the shattered lives, the bloodbath of innocents.
In March, renowned Mexican poet Javier Sicilia lost his beloved son, another murdered innocent. "I have no more poetry in me," he lamented. Grieving, he laid his pen aside and instead took to the streets, sparking a national mobilization for peace in Mexico's drug-fueled violence, leading marches and caravans.
"What will you do next?" U.S. reporters asked him in June. Sicilia responded that he was unsure. Like me, he had no road map to offer. No road map to peace.
Instead he recited lines from the Spanish poet Antonio Machado:
"There is no road; the road is made by walking."
So next week I'll travel again to the border. I know I can not make peace happen there. Nevertheless, my journey is not futile. No effort for peace is futile. We simply walk the road of peace, stepping into the darkness without a map. We do it because we believe we can make a road.
We embark on this journey not because peace is the destination, but because peace is every step.
I invite you to accompany me on the journey. Subscribe. Follow. Join Border Explorer. 'Like' Border Explorer on Facebook. Peace! Paz!