Sitting on the lake, only a day away from our departure from that beautiful place, I prayed: for the boys who long to be loved in ways they're not being loved; for the girls whose father does not keep his promises; for the many we meet whose wounds are so deep, I fear they won't be uncovered and will remain bottomless and unknown.
"I don't understand. Why?"
Why is this my story, a girl in the mountains, on the mountain, singing songs and praying prayers in western North Carolina, the mountains I love so much? Why is this their story, unfaithful fathers, deep hurts, stuck in the city that suffocates us?
"Please don't leave them alone; please make a way; please protect them from the Evil One."
Then I'm reminded, I feel Jesus nudging: "They are not alone; I've sent you."
What is this mystery that we embody Jesus, that we are one with him, that we are the ones to go and that we are the ones whose hands heal, whose hearts love, whose arms hold, whose eyes cry, who pray without ceasing. And so, Jesus is doing those very things... in us, with us, together. A mystery.
Jesus is with my neighbors; we are here.
Help me be faithful.
