Tears in the Storm

This morning, coffee mug in hand, I made my way to my covered patio and carefully sat down (not quite 3 weeks since hip replacement surgery). Took in a large breath of the still air and settled peacefully into the sound of the twinkling fountain and the sheltering walls of ivy and jasmine.

Halfway through my morning prayers, light rain began, gradually intensifying.

I prayed for many people by name—deceased and living. (One day, I ought to count them, but today, I just recite them, one by one, for about 10 minutes.)

I prayed for forgiveness for my many sins—some from long ago that I can no longer make right, but God can.

With tears, I prayed for healing of the injustices of this world. People who are hurt and afraid. Some I know, some I’ll never know because their escape from injustice was death.

People like Kingston Frazier, the perpetual 6-year-old, who was asleep in the back seat of his mom’s car when teenagers stole the car and killed him when he awoke and they discovered he was there. That was six years ago. Yesterday, Kingston’s family presented the annual Kingston Frazier Award to an outstanding student at his elementary school.

I cry for Kingston, his family, and, also, for his murderers who have now reached adulthood behind bars.

How weird is that? I don’t know these people and, yet, I cry.

I remember reading that being one with Jesus in this world does not mean continual bliss. Rather, it means being more sensitive to others, seeing people like he sees them. Loving them like he loves them.

The rain pours in sheets. I feel the air shake when thunder crashes with a whistling lightning strike nearby. My heart pounds, but I am in awe of the power and the beauty of the moment.

That’s it. That’s the metaphor for being one with Jesus in this world.

This world is a storm of people hating and fearing each other. I cannot change that any more than I can change the storm. But, just as I admire God’s handiwork in this raging storm, I can love and appreciate the awesomeness of each person.

Thank you, Lord, for blessing me with the gifts of love and tears.