We W
Romans 5
Peace with God Through Faith
5
Therefore, since we have been justified by faith, we have peace with God through our Lord Jesus Christ. 2 Through him we have also obtained access by faith into this grace in which we stand, and we rejoice in hope of the glory of God. 3 Not only that, but we rejoice in our sufferings, knowing that suffering produces endurance, 4 and endurance produces character, and character produces hope, 5 and hope does not put us to shame, because God's love has been poured into our hearts through the Holy Spirit who has been given to us.
That right there, saved me from utter snapping before I headed out for church this eve.
But then the anxiety came blanketing back over me as I entered the building.
Sliding past everyone into a pew. I don't want eye contact so I don't receive.
But during worship (music) I'm reminded by the staggering fact that my being there, the intimacy I have with God through Jesus, means that I am never alone. I'm never abandoned to solitude again. My eyes well up.
He will never leave me. When I call for help, he provides.
Usually in the evening a man double my age, who is either homeless or schizophrenic, or both, loves, and I mean, loves to chat with me. I don't usually mind, he's insane but hilarious. I laugh loudly.
But not tonight, please. I longingly wished as I exited my car.
I was heard.
Our contact was slight. As I scurry to conceal my self in a pew. I'm scribbling my thoughts in neat columns when I feel a hand comforting circles on my back and it was him. Asking where I was because he missed me.
God speaks through others.
One of Mikecal's roommates almost collides into Scott as he pauses with this gesture. I look up into both of them and greet the fold away back into the writing I need to do, alone.
Not alone.
I tear up again and again.
My car alarm goes off during the first prayer.
Oops.
It's New Haven, it's expected.
It's been going off more and more sporadically.
When the service was over, a blazingly encouraging sermon on all of Mark 13, by a young man sporting a manicured dense beard and no doubt in the divinity program at Yale, spoke powerfully with youthful humor and fine tuned expressive fingers. I leave with the quickness of a woman who has been navigating crowds of heads on drugs for a decade, sliding through bodies fluidly and untouched. I use the bathroom and slip away without a glimmer.
Nothing, a Christian should revel in but it's carefully crafted waltz. Get outside, and find your way home.
It's the opposite here.
A dance I mastered and wore with pride.
Now it's killing me.
I head back home because I needed to sell plants.
It's only a dub but it's one of my newer clients. I reveal I am a Christian. He's partially an atheist and part agnostic. Tall and toned, he probably plays basketball. High cheekbones with tousled reddish hair. His expression is one of a surprised curiosity. I get glances of raccoon in his energy.
I gather his purchase.
And he pays. Then dips back into his wallet.
Here, he says, take four, he peels away dollars, ...no, five.
Then hands them to me, for being such a nice person and for having good bags.
I laugh, okay.
I've never been tipped before.
Provision is made.
It's been a long day. I'm ready to rest now.
I like writing in here again.
Peace with God Through Faith
5
Therefore, since we have been justified by faith, we have peace with God through our Lord Jesus Christ. 2 Through him we have also obtained access by faith into this grace in which we stand, and we rejoice in hope of the glory of God. 3 Not only that, but we rejoice in our sufferings, knowing that suffering produces endurance, 4 and endurance produces character, and character produces hope, 5 and hope does not put us to shame, because God's love has been poured into our hearts through the Holy Spirit who has been given to us.
That right there, saved me from utter snapping before I headed out for church this eve.
But then the anxiety came blanketing back over me as I entered the building.
Sliding past everyone into a pew. I don't want eye contact so I don't receive.
But during worship (music) I'm reminded by the staggering fact that my being there, the intimacy I have with God through Jesus, means that I am never alone. I'm never abandoned to solitude again. My eyes well up.
He will never leave me. When I call for help, he provides.
Usually in the evening a man double my age, who is either homeless or schizophrenic, or both, loves, and I mean, loves to chat with me. I don't usually mind, he's insane but hilarious. I laugh loudly.
But not tonight, please. I longingly wished as I exited my car.
I was heard.
Our contact was slight. As I scurry to conceal my self in a pew. I'm scribbling my thoughts in neat columns when I feel a hand comforting circles on my back and it was him. Asking where I was because he missed me.
God speaks through others.
One of Mikecal's roommates almost collides into Scott as he pauses with this gesture. I look up into both of them and greet the fold away back into the writing I need to do, alone.
Not alone.
I tear up again and again.
My car alarm goes off during the first prayer.
Oops.
It's New Haven, it's expected.
It's been going off more and more sporadically.
When the service was over, a blazingly encouraging sermon on all of Mark 13, by a young man sporting a manicured dense beard and no doubt in the divinity program at Yale, spoke powerfully with youthful humor and fine tuned expressive fingers. I leave with the quickness of a woman who has been navigating crowds of heads on drugs for a decade, sliding through bodies fluidly and untouched. I use the bathroom and slip away without a glimmer.
Nothing, a Christian should revel in but it's carefully crafted waltz. Get outside, and find your way home.
It's the opposite here.
A dance I mastered and wore with pride.
Now it's killing me.
I head back home because I needed to sell plants.
It's only a dub but it's one of my newer clients. I reveal I am a Christian. He's partially an atheist and part agnostic. Tall and toned, he probably plays basketball. High cheekbones with tousled reddish hair. His expression is one of a surprised curiosity. I get glances of raccoon in his energy.
I gather his purchase.
And he pays. Then dips back into his wallet.
Here, he says, take four, he peels away dollars, ...no, five.
Then hands them to me, for being such a nice person and for having good bags.
I laugh, okay.
I've never been tipped before.
Provision is made.
It's been a long day. I'm ready to rest now.
I like writing in here again.