I’m Desperate

rising_moon_over_the_red_sea_by_andyserrano

Friends,
I’m desperate.

I’m desperate because
I hear news of
hatred and
violence and
death

and I take it personally,
because I’m human and I feel the pain and suffering of my brothers and sisters in this world, because we will all face heartache,
and we know it breaks us down.

I’m desperate for
Change.

I’m desperate for
someone to step out and say,
“This isn’t how it was supposed to be.”

I’m desperate for
people to see
we’ve gone too far —

gone too far away from who we are,
who we were created to be,
what we were born to do –
serve others, love others, love God.

I’m desperate for
peoples’ actions to match their words.
I’m desperate for
people to be people of their promises.

I’m desperate to see
communities bound together in commitment to one another.
I’m desperate to witness
neighbors checking in to make sure everyone is home safe,
that their kids feel safe playing catch on the sidewalk,
that their parents feel safe standing outside their homes in the evening, just watching the stars,
instead of inside, with doors locked, wondering, worrying.

I’m desperate for
families to gather around the table.
I’m desperate to see time stop,
for a few minutes, maybe even an hour,
for bread to be broken,
for plates to be passed,
for grace to be shared,
for hands to be held.

I’m desperate for
parents –
parents who are present,
who, even with a full work load,
show up and remind their children that they are loved, they are held, they are beautiful.

I’m desperate for
fathers to guide with dignity and wisdom.
I’m desperate for
mothers to lead with strength in their hearts and in their voices.
I’m desperate for
siblings to wrap their arms around each other and say,
“You may be strange and annoying, sometimes, but I’m always going to love you.”

I’m desperate for
laughter,
for joyful noise.

I’m desperate for
genuine and meaningful conversations.
I’m desperate for
heart-level truth and friends who hold one another accountable.
I’m desperate for
honesty,
so that when we’re hurting, when there’s a problem,
we, as brothers and sisters,
can rise to the occasion
and meet chaos with compassion.

I’m desperate for
Prayer.
I’m wholly desperate for
Holy Grace and Forgiveness.
I’m desperate for these things because the only way I can make it through each day on this earth is the security of knowing I’m wrapped in Grace and Forgiveness and Love.

I’m desperate for
identity.
I’m desperate for
people to put down their magazines and television remotes and cell phones,
desperate for people to erase their titles, their resumes, their bucket lists,
desperate for people to see who they were when they were born into this world
– fragile, tender, beautiful JOY –
a baby born with no ideas of murder, or discrimination, or fear,
but a baby who smiled when his face first pressed against his mother’s warm skin,
a baby who snuggled into folds of safety and protection,
a baby who only wanted to be loved, for that is the only way to live, to survive, to grow.

It may sound like I’m desperate for a lot of things –
a lot of big, complicated things.

But truth be told,
I don’t believe it’s that complicated,
if we only took the time to look at where we came from,
how we came here,
why we are here.

In the end,
I’m desperate to believe in the goodness that is at the core of each one of us, simply because we’re human

— and I’m unwilling to compromise this belief,
no matter what happens.

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