Yesterday, 13/05/2026, in Wynyard — a little rural town on the north-west coast of Tasmania — something very unusual took place. Police were called to an address where someone had been shot. This isn’t unheard of in the north-west of Tasmania, however, it certainly isn’t common.
I had been travelling in Sydney when I saw the news shared on a Facebook page. When these things happen, I am often moved because I have friends who live in Wynyard and many more in the surrounding areas. I decided to leave a simple prayer for peace on the page:
“Oh Lord, please restore the peace. Amen.”
About an hour later, I was surprised to find the following comment:
“It was one person in Wynyard, not Ukraine.”
The comment cut me in two ways. Firstly, because I thought what I had done was a kind thing. Secondly, because it struck me how far we have fallen as a society when a prayer for peace becomes more mock-worthy than the actual shooting itself. I was stunned.
My heart broke. As is often the case when people attack us, a sense of defensive pride tried to rise up within me. However, I managed to edge it aside enough to respond only with:
“Wow… Ian. Thanks mate. Yes, it was a human being in Wynyard. Wow.”
In that response, I remembered that I had been given an opportunity. I could take offence, or I could choose to be a light in a darkened situation. I decided to choose the light.
He responded again, emphasising that it was only “drug people” and that everyone was safe now, though the tone remained belittling. Then another person joined in and said:
“Your Lord won’t help.”
So I asked them gently by name:
“Why do you say that?”
Eventually they answered:
“They never do.”
I paused for a moment, thought carefully, and then replied:
“He has for me 😀 Don’t rule Him out.”
In that moment, I realised I had been given an opportunity to witness to the goodness of God in the middle of a situation filled with fear, cynicism, and division. I could have surrendered to the offence trying to take hold of me, but instead an opportunity appeared to offer the healing truth of the Lord.
Now, I don’t know what difference, if any, those words will make in their lives. But the experience showed me something important: I do not have to be afraid of other people’s rejection or condescension. Many people genuinely do not realise what they are doing. They have become caught in the currents and inertia of a wounded world.
It reminded me that we, as the awakened children of God, are given freedom from the constant pushes and pulls of this world. We can become a rock in shifting sands — a place where stability, mercy, and peace can still remain.