Is this what it is like to try to sleep in Baghdad?

Sorry for the distance between posts, it has been a very rough time for my wife and I, so many things had to be laid aside so that we could begin to recover from our losses. My wife's older sister was killed in a car wreck, and two good friends of ours from the L'Arche community passed away, in addition to that there have been some other losses to us. The essay below came to me tonight, and I had to share it.

As I lay in my bed trying to sleep through the overwhelming din of fireworks, I wonder to myself if this is what it is like in Baghdad every night?

I felt the Holy Spirit leading me to consider this question. In obedience I did and the explosions that I heard took on a different feeling and meaning, every boom and pop possibly meaning another person dying. What a fearful thing it must be to hear the loud crumps and rapid pops and wonder if your house will be hit next. As I hear a series of pops across the street I flinch from the images my imagination provides me. My heart is deeply saddened as I feel the conviction of the Holy Spirit rise within me as I lay listening and wishing I could close my ears. As my neighbors let off their screamer rockets, I hear in my mind the screams of the dying and my conscience is pricked and my heart is broken. What is an inconvenience for me before a workday has become a leading and conviction from Jesus. This is what it is like to try to sleep in Baghdad!

Dear God, what have we wrought? I don’t know what I can do to end this madness, but as I lay and hear the pounding sounds that don’t seem to end I know that doing nothing is no longer an option. I cannot let this continue without raising my voice. I can no longer stay silent while others live fear-filled lives waiting for violent death to come to them.

God forgive me, for I have been silent when I should have spoken.