Sacred Spaces 368– Dear World
20 February 2013
From tweets to status updates to news bulletins to conversations with friends, this past week, a lot has gone on in your existence.
I write to plead with your conscience / to plead with the posture of your heart.
There is so much chaos going on. I know you have noticed; but how do you feel about it?
What are the ways forward?
My heart is sad for my country right now. My heart is sad for the world. Fallen heroes. Loss of life. Brokenness. Corruption. Confusion.
There are questions that seem to have no answers.
The bridges we still need to cross; seem rather lengthy.
There is healing, I know that. It just seems like a distant shore right now.
What should we do?
I have often thought of this: a lot of people say there is no God.
However, when I look at the state of the world, and I see all the brokenness, that opposite screams out for another OPPOSITE.
The broken world needs a fixed world.
So I see the wounds of you, dear world.
Those wounds need a plaster (as all wounds do).
That “plaster” I have come to call, Jesus.
Hear me out, here.
Look at Jesus. Study his life and his heart and you will see:
His love really can move mountains (to steal an expression, that you dear world, have come up with.)
His loves makes people feel worthy.
His love brings hope to all those who encounter it.
And look at his teachings. They make a lot of sense.
They bring a healthy perspective and teach us to not be selfish. To give of ourselves. To care for others around us.
How can that all be a stupid whim to follow?
And the morals of Jesus
If you, dear world followed them; would there not be more peace, hope, love, healing and friendship? Definitely!
There would be less selfishness, cruelty, corruption. Of that I am certain.
So dear world, what is the way forward?
Why are you so scared to meet with this Jesus?
Look at yourself, you have people crying, you have people dying (not only physically).
You are wounded, do you see that?
Come wounded, and let this Saviour help you,
All my sincere love,
A reed I come
Yet You will not break me
A wick, smouldering
Yet You won’t snuff