One night at bedtime, my youngest child surprises me by asking God to bless the people who will be awake while he sleeps. His firefighter uncle, putting in a 24-hour shift. The bakers, making fresh bread for the morning. The police, charged with keeping everyone safe.
I ask if he can add any more. He does. People driving trucks and flying planes. Sad people. People without homes. Animals and the moon.
After a while, his brother and I chime in. We pray for neighbors we know, for those we don’t, and especially for those whom we imagine inhabit uncomfortable places. Peace comes, calm and bright as the moon behind the window curtain.
Sometimes the days are blurry. Sometimes we come to see Jesus at night. Much like Nicodemus, we strain our eyes at a glimpse of the divinity, stuck on small details, wondering at the big picture. Who is this God who comes not to condemn the world, but to love it?
This message is excerpted from “Coming to see Jesus,” by Elizabeth Hunter in the June 2017 Gather magazine.
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