Feeling heavy-hearted. Haiti. Untimely calls Home. My mind is wandering in and out of what I’ve come to call prayer. More out than in. I’m trying to take God at his word tonight; He is Perfect Love and in Him we are invited to live without fear.
A man prophesied over me a few years ago. He layed his hand on my shoulder and told me that the book of Esther was/is my life, and that God delights in my quite strength. I needed to believe him then, same as I do now. I need to know that the Love that’s in me is strong enough to turn my hands into open palms, especially in moments when they’d rather be clinched fists, covering my eyes as I weep. I need to believe that “for such a time as this” is a call to action… a call to peace… a call to breath deeply and give thanks… a call to go… a call to be still.
I am not a Haitian. I’ve never known poverty. I’m surrounded by people who are actively loving me. I feel guilty. For a moment I really, really do.
Greet it and let it go, they say. Let it go. Give thanks that Love endures forever and ever and ever…
God, what a mystery.