myhongsong

Let us remember our friends out on the field who have to creatively find ways to be light in dark places without having buildings to safely gather in. Let us remember entire nations where people are taught that their leader is their deity and our friends who have memorized scripture to share orally because a printed copy would have them murdered. Let us remember our parents who go to bed each night on their knees praying – whether they believe in God or not – for their child to not catch this virus. If we are more concerned by the inconvenience of not physically meeting with our friends who we are already on a spiritual journey with, and less concerned with how to run out and sit with the hurt and the lost, then I wonder if we are able to remember those nations and those hurting families.

That the mandate to be His hands and feet are no longer an obligation but it’s a reflex, a reaction that we can’t keep ourselves from doing because love is literally effervescing inside of us and bubbling over. How do we expect people to believe that they are loved so deeply that the Son of God went to the death and the grave and His jealous love is pursuing them even now as I type? This isn’t even considering Matthew 25 and how clear Jesus made it that when people are hurting, that it’s not just a “world issue” we can ignore. So to the churches that say social justice is a distraction from the gospel, is dividing us from what our true focus is, is a worldly issue we shouldn’t be so immersed in, know this: ignoring the cries of our neighbors, of the black community, is NOT advancing the gospel.

When I attended conferences or events and there was an opportunity to receive prayer from someone, I would scan the leaders to see who I felt would have the most “power” in their prayer; I would want to receive prayer from the person who I imagined God would hear the most. When I shifted my prayers from making those the foundation of my prayers (of course I still bring my pleas and yearnings before Him) into just a part of my prayer, my prayers became time sitting in the garden of encounter with the all powerful Creator. May we also be reminded that in that place of belonging, it’s not about rights or deserving our requests, it’s about the friendship and closeness to be honest and vulnerable and to be seen and heard. But I hope that we are reminded that it’s not about the loudness of the words or sounds, but it’s in the gentle whispers where deep revelations of God’s heart are revealed.

I’m the toddler mom expecting the young, fresh faced 20-somethings leisurely standing in the aisles browsing blushes to move out of my way because my toddler is trying to full on stand inside the shopping cart I’m still brewing coffee for myself at 7pm at home because that one cup will give me JUST enough wake up juice to survive tucking both boys into bed without falling asleep before they do. Of course if I wanted to actually step out of the house and make a quick coffee run at that ridiculous hour at 6pm I could, but by the time kids are dressed and shoe-ed and I’ve somehow bribed my toddler to follow me to the car, it’s now about 8pm which means it’s now time to begin our 3 hour long adventure of trying to bathe, read, and sleep…. But as much as I miss the simplicity of those decision making days, I can’t help but pause and chuckle at how dramatic my thoughts are, but more so how consumed by love my thoughts are driven.