William Williams

When a loved one dies, it changes the world overnight. Whether you hear from a phone call, or a news report, or a sudden conversation in a hallway at work, you find out that a life that affected you in a personal way is gone.

“The Holy Land, with Jerusalem at its heart, is a place where the great tectonic plates of religion, culture and nationalism come together. The fault lines that run between them are never quiet and always dangerous. Ignoring the legacy of 1967 is not an option.”

So reads the closing paragraph of a recent BBC article about the Six Days War, the dire conflict between modern-day Israel and its Arab neighbors. It was a short war with a long legacy—one that has lasted to this very day.

During the week of May 7, 2017, the news that the Trump Administration is considering re-escalating U.S. efforts in the Afghan conflict made headlines. In response to what appears to be a resurgent Taliban, military and foreign policy advisers worry that without new, decisive military actions, much ground could be lost in what is now recognized as “America’s longest war.”

When tragedy strikes, sometimes it is said that you cannot fully understand the suffering “until it happens to you”—whatever “it” happens to be. On May 22, the suicide bombing of a popular concert in Manchester, England brought home that statement to the families of 23 victims killed, as well as 116 survivors and their families—tragedy has “happened to them.” Only time will tell how they will cope.

Dictators come and go, but what is happening in the 21st century? If people flock to powerful, charismatic leaders, what will happen when one comes along and promises to bring world peace before the return of Jesus Christ?