1,000,000 IN 100 . . .

Almost 1,000,000 people murdered in 100 days.
That is what I learned from watching "Hotel Rwanda" tonight.

I am so ashamed. I am so woefully embarrassed that eleven years ago, when I was a college student old enough to know and to be aware and to care, I didn't. I am so ashamed that I didn't read past the newspaper headlines. I am so ashamed that I didn't pause in my dinner, my classes, my daily activities, my glasses of wine and mornings slept in, to take notice of what was happening in Rwanda. I am so embarrassed that I didn't consider what it meant for citizen to kill citizen, for a person to be drunk with hatred and prejudice, for a world to ignore truth, for humanity to be rendered totally inhumane. I am so ashamed that my heart is breaking and my mind is reeling with disbelief now, a stupid and meaningless eleven years later. I am embarrassed to confess that I don't know what's happening, fully, around the world in these days, even.

I am glad that I am alone tonight, that a cold has forced me to stay in and be still. I am glad that I have the rest of the night to think and to pray and to consider the world that is so much larger and more important than I am by myself.

It is easy for me to ridicule movies for being senseless and insignificant. It is difficult for me to watch films like "Schindler's List" and now, "Hotel Rwanda." These two films, I know, are life- and heart-changing, not just for me, but perhaps for you as well. Still, I am glad to have seen both now, even if it means nights of nightmares and days of never feeling like I'm doing enough.

After all, I see that it is good to be reminded that there is always room.