Flights of Faith

Sunday, August 09, 2009

Late Night Stroll

I stayed out last night.  Trafalgar Square and its beautiful coloured fountains called out to me.  The four lions majestically stared to their corners of the world.  They have seen a lot.  I wonder if they long to crane their necks upwards at night to take a look at the stars.  I did that.

I asked God to guide me last night.  I asked if He had anything for me to do.  I simply wanted to hear His voice and act.  I want this heart to be a servant’s heart.  I cracked open a book and sat on a bench. 

“10 pounds for 5 grams! No.  Listen! 5 grams.”

A drug deal was being arranged right next to me.  The same bench.  I prayed and nothing became clearer.  Five chapters into the book and drug dealers gone, I decided to walk around London’s version of Time Square. 

I was listening for a still small voice or a thunder clash.  I did not really hear either.  Yet, I saw His people.  I saw His people spill across the street, packed into McDonalds, yelling and dancing and being foul-mouthed and almost falling.  I felt led to love them.  Love without judging, but also without desiring a glitzy London night out.  I was set apart through choices, not “goodness.” 

The spectrum of color was awe-inspiring.  Of course, the billboards and the lights shone every color of the rainbow.  The people, though, radiated pinks, olives, browns, and blacks.  Traditional African clothes on one family, scarves adorned in another, zoot suits on young men of any color.  Everyone is so stylish here.  His people were on the move but where were they going? And where was I going?  We were just walking together, I guess.  One big group. 

There were some tears, yells abounded, kisses were more displayed than stolen, and there was that vomit I sidestepped.  As I tried to discern His voice, I think I just heard my own thinking – though it did sound like something like He might think.

“They are my people, and I love them.  You try to find my face with the poor, and I am there (I had just read ‘Always Enough’ by Heidi and Rolland Baker).  I am here too.  Are these people rich?  These are my people.  Love them.”

I pondered that.  I don’t know where I am called to in this world.  I would love for God to fill me with His compassion and strength in order to sustain a life lived amidst the poor in the West or elsewhere.  The poor seems like such a direct call with their obvious hunger and desire for transformation. 

Yet, the Shepherd is jealous for His sheep and He’s not going to stop under the bridges of London.  He will march towards Trafalgar Square.  He will be present in a McDonalds overflowing with people hungry after tireless dancing.  He desires to be their rest and to laugh with them.  God, how we must sadden and taunt you not just with our sin, but with our distance.  I guess it’s a  similar thing.

God, complete the work you are doing in me.  I don’t really know what you spoke last night.  I don’t know if I missed it entirely or if you just wanted to expand my heart for Your people and Your kingdom through witnessing what Your eyes see all the time.  I hope my eyes were opened to more of Your reality.

Maybe it was simply my shirt, I thought, on the way back.  I noticed many people did a double take at its black background and white, blue, yellow, green, and pink colors.  ALIVE:  WAKE UP, YOU’RE ALIVE, WE’RE ON YOUR SIDE.

God, help me remember that.

You are on our side. 

I hope and pray I am on yours.



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