Friday, October 19, 2012

Reaching Across the Rift

Do you sometimes see people, people you don't even know, and wonder if you could glimpse into their lives?  Oh, to be a fly on the wall...

Yesterday evening, I sat outside after a good run.  I find that my most spiritual experiences usually happen when I'm running.  I see people driving, taking out the trash, and there's others being dropped off, maybe at a friend's house?  I watch them while I'm running, and I think to myself, "God, how should I reach these people?  Who do you want me to see or speak to?"  I pray for them.  I pray that God would touch their lives somehow, whether through me or someone else.  It all starts at square one...prayer.

While jogging and wheezing (yeah, ragweed kicks my butt this time of year), I think about how far our nation is from God.  How much we hate Him and push Him away.  We're afraid of what He could do in us.  He could change everything, and doing that would be painful.  Or He could put us in places that we don't think we should be; He could keep us from having that job, getting that house, or doing what we believe we were born to do.

While running, I realize that I could be in this apartment complex for the rest of my life, if that's where He wants me.  We're called to stop thinking of ourselves, but to think of Him first, and then others.  I pray for forgiveness for my shortcomings, for my stupidity.  I pray for forgiveness for us American Christians.  We aren't where we need to be.  We're too connected to our money and our success.  Maybe we're too connected to our pride, our families, but most of all, our comfort.

It's not going to be comfortable.  Loving the needy and difficult people in the world...yeah, that's hard.  In my complex, I see them everyday.  A lot of them walk to work nearby, McDonald's or Sonic.  They have little children who don't have their daddies.  They are older people, alone and shut up in their apartments.  They are blind, mentally handicapped...most of them are hurting.  Many of them are living for the weekend.

It hurts when I step outside of myself to see them.  I mean to REALLY see them.  I sat in the grass, and watched a girl roller-blade down the drive.  People were coming in and out of doors.  I remember thinking that if I could,  I would dissolve into the air, invisible and watch them forever.  Maybe I could intervene when I should...if I could shed this body for a few hours, and float in the cool to see them more, I would.  The moist air was intoxicating, enough to bring tears to my eyes.  I could see how much He loves them, and how much I've fallen short in loving them.  God, forgive me.

I soaked it all in, got up, and walked back to my home, where my husband and dogs were napping on the couch. All I could think was: Thank You God, for loving me...for loving us.  But more than anything, thank You for still speaking to me in the quietness of the night.  Thank You for Your still small voice, and making me be still enough to hear it.

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