"do not be afraid of those who kill the body and after that can do no more." -luke 12:4
"prayer leads us to the knowledge that 'all shall be well, and all shall be well, and all manner of thing shall be well.'" - julian of norwich
last week i was living in the house of fear. every day it was a battle to keep my browser off of nytimes.com and to control my rising panic regarding the stock market. at present, i have precious little money in the market, but my development job is closely attuned to movements within the market. hence my fear.
on wednesday, in the middle of that dark week, i hurried onto an orange line train at wellington, captured one of the last remaining seats, dug out jesus for president and started to read.
or at least i meant to read.
almost immediately my attention was drawn to the black swiss army briefcase which abutted my leg. on top of the briefcase i noticed multi-colored cards, adorned with beautiful arabic script, that were were being pondered one at a time.
i wanted to focus on my book and harbor the illusion that i am without prejudice.
but i couldn't help myself.
eventually, after five long seconds of inner turmoil, i glanced at the keeper of the cards and noticed that he was middle eastern. i wish i could say that he was arabic, persian or egyptian, but i didn't want to stare.
sullivan square was coming up and i had a decision to make. should i trust that this man's intentions were as earnest as my own as i sat there reading jesus for president? or should i save myself from the minute possibility of being victimized by another madrid, another london?
i got off the train.
i sat in shame.
waiting for the next orange line train to forest hills.
in the days that followed i dug into the scriptures. i sought a fear of God that would strengthen me to serve. i confessed my idolatry of the dollar and my failure to love my brother, prayer partner, image bearer. i preached, with tears in my eyes, looking for the house of love.
Sixteen Years of Wedded… Something?
1 week ago