I can hear the hearts crying louder than the rocks

Where, when does it start? How can a generational curse be so outstanding that you and I are born into both privilege and poverty, knowing the touch of both God and the devil? Where and when will it end? When will the hungry eat? When will the thirsty drink? When will lives begin and end above the bondage of slavery? When will hate be conquered? Darkness cease and day break? Children not be beaten? Marriages be a lifelong union? Evil end?

All I know is “not now. Not here. Not for a long time. And not by human hands.” We got ourselves into this mess, and I don’t care if you think Adam and Eve is a fairy tale or not, mankind is a diamond covered in tar. And not a diamond from Africa that lives ended to sell to the highest Western bidder, either. A fair-trade diamond unscarred by human error. So when he’s riding in town and his fans are going nuts and the social powers that be told him to shut them up, I understand why he said that if the people were quiet, the rocks would cry out to compensate. The whole world is waiting for redemption. Every child born from his and her mother’s womb is already victim to an apathetic world. Every beating heart wants to be known and loved despite what flaws would be found. Every soul needs acceptance despite inadequacies.

I cannot offer you that.

I have long reached the conclusion that men and women are incapable of meeting such needs. We’re much too selfish. Remove divine love from the equation and we have absolutely no incentive to better the world, to look out for others, to love our neighbors, to love our enemies, to truly love ourselves. To love anyone. Remove agape from the equation and you are left with a world in which orphans are adopted by men who sell their organs on the black market, children are sold into slavery by parents who need money to pay the interest on a $36 dollar debt, human trafficking triumphs under the radar, girls old enough for brushing their teeth and tying their shoes to be their greatest responsibilities are forced into prostitution and beaten for resistance, thousands die weekly of sickness and malnutrition in displacement camps due to decades-long warfare while obesity and prescription drug abuse rages on the other side of the globe, when bullets fly into the bodies of the innocent in public parking lots, women are raped by friends and family, one man voluntarily slits the throat of another, dirty water murders millions annually while others pay $5 for a small bottle from Fiji [$5 to bloodwatermission.com will build a well & revolutionize a dry village], parents hate their children, children hate their parents, eating disorders hold people captive, blades create scars of self-inflicted wounds, and adultery, corporations, abortion, divorce, lies, pornography, theft, jealousy, addictions, greed, debt, disobedience and injustice reign over its inhabitants.

Freedom. I want to be free.

I want to hold back the hands that cut, unlock the prison doors, dance in the sun rise and swim in the waves. I want to scream truth louder than the lies, give the hungry, thirsty, homeless and poor everything they need to meet every single need they have and will have. I want to not be crippled by my past and shortcomings. I want to encourage rather than gossip. I want to bring healing. I want to comfort those who mourn. I want to proclaim victory. I want to lead the way to freedom. Where children can laugh and dance and be embraced by their parents. Where the poor are rich and the last are first. Where addictions are weak and chains are broken. Where the only blood that will be shed has shed and cheeks know not the touch of tears. Where hearts are confident in love and community thrives in fellowship. Where slavery is nonexistent. Freedom. Freedom. Freedom.

I really believe on a deep level that you are reading this and you agree. I really believe on a deep level that this desire is written on our hearts that beat and long to be intimately known and intimately loved, reverberating with souls craving intimate acceptance and intimate freedom. The rocks don’t need to cry out. Our hearts are loud enough.

I don’t claim Jesus of Nazareth because I think it makes me better than you on any falsely-determined level. I don’t claim Jesus of Nazareth because he told or forced me to. I claim Jesus of Nazareth because he didn’t just say these needs needed to be met and someone should do something about that. I claim Jesus of Nazareth because he rose up and met them, because he broke addictions, because he ended slavery, because he conquered evil, speaks only truth, comforts those who mourn, and grasps every starving heart and holds it to his. I claim Jesus of Nazareth is the Christ because he proclaimed freedom to prisoners and liberty to captives.

I cannot offer you that kind of love. I claim the man who can.

Verily, today there is freedom.