|Photo taken by Jusben|
At church our youth group was filled with musicians. Some even became professional in adulthood. They listened to rock music and played it during jam sessions. When I worshiped alongside them, I felt Holy Spirit’s presence. It was just as strong as when I listened to my Mother play and lead worship in corporate service.
To say I was confused was an understatement.
Sex before marriage.
The correct way to pray.
Interpretations of Revelation.
I could go on…
Each and every time a culture war erupted, my heart would grieve. Like a black hole in my chest, I could feel God cry.
Mourning the hate.
Lamentening for those who were the focus of the anger.
Angry about how God was being portrayed.
AND most important, how God’s redemptive story compromised for absolute rules.
Last week was no different. World Vision and the Noah movie left me feeling like I had been kicked in the chest.
Monday I woke up under a cloud of depression. I forced myself to walk the dogs. To eat. To fulfill my chores around the house, then that afternoon, a cry for help.
Molley at A Mother Life began sharing a potential injustice. She, an immigrant, was facing investigation from Homeland Security. It consumed my afternoon. Checking her Facebook and Twitter, my heart found a new focus of lament.
My imaginary interweb friend faced being ripped from her family. I began to pray. With breathless hope I prayed,
For our divine Mediator to bring peace.
For confusion to become clear.
|Photo taken by kconnors|
Throughout the whole dream I knew it wasn’t about me, it was about Molley. I continued to pray through the whole night.
Next morning first thing I did was message her to tell her about my prayers for her. Not something I usually do.
She messaged me back right away with a Thanks and a link: The Truth Shall Set Me Free.