The good news that ISIS is close to defeat in Mosul is almost overshadowed by the stories of lives that this war has destroyed. A recent BBC report states that many civilians remain trapped in the west of the city, and those trying to escape are in great danger. One man who managed to reach the Iraqi position, was holding his dead 4-year old son in his arms. The boy had been shot by IS snipers while he and his family were trying to flee. However, it was the last sentence of a related report that really struck me: “Children are showing severe signs of trauma – such as excessive crying, mutism, bed-wetting and fear of leaving their parents.”
I had a flashback to breakfast… A messy affair that was mostly enjoyable, especially the animated conversation of little people grappling with the English language. But there was also some crying over spilt milk (literally), and some sulking because the spoon was the wrong color and there wasn’t enough sugar on the cereal.
These are all common occurrences around the miniature plastic table that sits in the middle of our kitchen floor. Bed-wetting, yes, we’ve had our fair share of incidences, and of course the inevitable tears as we part for the day, or “separation anxiety”, if you want to give it a name.
Knowing how the normal day-to-day can produce a whole range of emotions, which our toddlers clearly have little or no control over, leaves me wondering how children cope psychologically in a situation like the one in Mosul. How do they recover? Or rather, do they ever recover?
Staff from the International Committee of the Red Cross (ICRC) who are supporting Mosul’s General Hospital, explain how the “scars from a battle like the one taking place in Mosul are often, especially for the youngest, mental as well as physical”. A physiotherapist working with these children says that they cry for their parents and ask to go home. When I read that it felt like someone had put a knife through my heart.
Although it doesn’t come close to what the children of Mosul are experiencing, a recent article by Christian author Philip Yancey, about growing up ‘fatherless’, brought home to me the needs of young people living right on our doorsteps. Yancey believes that today nearly one quarter of children in the US are living in a home with no father present. This sounds almost luxurious in comparison to the situation in Mosul, yet it is something that should concern us as Christian parents, who understand the role that a father plays in the family.
God tells us to protect and care for the “fatherless” (Psalm 82:3, Psalm 10:18) as He does: “A father of the fatherless, a defender of widows, Is God in His holy habitation.” (Psalm 68:5) I may not be able to reach out to the children whose lives have been changed forever by the war in Mosul, but I don’t have to look very far for a child who needs the influence of a loving family. It’s time to open our eyes and our hearts because they’re all around us: in our immediate families, in our churches and in our neighbourhoods. If today God has blessed me with a family that is serving Him, then already I have everything I need to make a difference to a child ‘in need’.
Image: Flickr/CC – Marcia O’Connor
Louise Carter
