03/04/06-03/10/06
I saw a glimpse of Heaven this week.
No, not just a glimpse. I was in heaven, worshipping with people representing 25 nations around the world. White children were holding black babies in their arms and little white girls were laying in the laps of teenage Hispanic girls, gazing adoringly into their eyes. Everything felt so right. Everything was so beautiful despite the brokenness in each person’s life. God was working on hearts, and He chipped away at mine.
We were at New City Fellowship Church in University City, Missouri.
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Injustice never seemed more real to me this week.
Have you ever felt that uneasy feeling, where you know that something’s wrong, but the only way you can pinpoint it exactly is by really examining your heart? And when you figure it out, you realize that it’s dangerous and potentially life changing. It’s dangerous not because it’s physically hazardous (although that might be the case in some instances), but it’s dangerous because it’s the road less traveled. And there are two things you can do about it—snuff if out or conquer it. And there is one choice that clearly is the right one. But there’s the other choice that is so much easier to choose and execute; the choice that will take you back to complacency with the status quo.
Well, I felt that burden on my heart this week. Injustice. God revealed so much of his heart to us, and our eyes were opened through our encounters—our encounters with not only people, but inanimate objects as well. The Saint of Fort Washington. Jubilee Christian Development Corporation. Thomas Covington. Let me tell you about the places I was assigned to serve this week. At first glance, I’d sum it all up in two words: physical labor. I’m talking about digging a trench at Jubilee using sledge hammers, shovels and other tools I can’t name. And demolition work on the third floor of Thomas’ house—hard hats, goggles, face masks, hammers—and completely tearing everything down to the studs. I don’t feel the desire to paint a picture of how strenuous and exhausting this work was, but I do want to share why.
St. Louis has gone through so much, and as a result there are tons of people left jaded and broken. Jubilee is trying to help its community find hope in rebuilding, and so I spent two days in an old grocery store that’s being converted into a school/church, and we built a trench for a water pipe. God has amazing plans for this community. I spent the next two days at Thomas Covington’s house, and after two days of heavy lifting and digging at Jubilee, I don’t know how I survived at Thomas’. But God provides & he has blessed Thomas and his very pregnant wife with hearts overflowing with love for their black neighborhood. They bought this house on foreclosure for $1/square foot, and I can’t wait to hear about the lives that will be changed in this house.
As I was digging beneath the asphalt at Jubilee and clearing away the concrete, bricks, and gravel layered within the dirt, I realized that God was doing the same on my heart. As I was hammering through the plaster at Thomas Covington’s house, pulling out door frames, and stepping on nails, I realized that God was doing the same on my heart. Our hearts have been coated by things of society, making them calloused, hardened, and insensitive. But that’s not what God’s heart looks like. God wants us to reveal our hearts, so that we’ll come before him with each heartbeat visibly discernible. In a sense, I guess our hearts would be just laid out there and maybe susceptible to vulnerability, but that’s where God wants it. This isn’t the greatest example, but it’s like leaving an open wound un-bandaged, allowing it to be sensitive to everything that passes its way. It’s going to sting and feel uncomfortable, but I do believe that that’s exactly what God wants. And comfort is the last place God wants us to be. Status quo and complacency are what we should fear the most, & instead we’re called to get dirty, bruised, and broken. Only in brokenness will we see beauty. And as a result, God will be able to mold & shape our hearts to be more like his.
My heart was rocked this week. But I feel like God’s just broken through the asphalt, and there’s still the gravel and brick to clear away…and I left St. Louis thirsting for justice. I also left St. Louis knowing that I’m the source of the injustice.
Gerry & Sharie Chappeau. InterVarsity. Josh & Caleb. Thomas. Pete. Jubilee. Racial Reconciliation. AACF. Zion’s Inspiration. Pierre. Ms. Lovie. Grace. Mercy. Righteousness. Faith. Hope. So much more.
Everyone has a story. Every story is significant.
"They will be called the Holy People, the Redeemed of the Lord; & you will be called Sought After, the City No Longer Deserted." Isaiah 62:12
CityLights 2006. St. Louis, Missouri.
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