Hope Shifts

We walked into the home for the dying today where I met Albert. He was lying in agony on his simple bed 2” away from 2 other beds. He had a pink Bible above his head, a blue blanket covering him and I noticed tattoos on the knuckles of his left hand. He was dying of AIDS.

What has been in my head and heart all day was not his surroundings or his disease. It was his gutteral groan. While we were getting an overview of the place, Albert was in great pain and his own soul was crying out to God. He would cry out, “Jesus take my spirit.” It brought me to a deep place of prayer for him. His groan was earthy, deep, desperate because he needed God.

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We walked into the 20 x 40 room of concrete. Kids rode in on skateboards with tight jeans and hats on backwards. The noise was loud. The walls were white and the guitar player sat on an old desk, played his instrument simply, didn’t project lyrics and sang. But what has been in my head since is not the music or the surroundings. It was the noise of the voices of 40 teens praying at the same time over our group.

The noise raised and lowered as they sought God. They physically lifted our hands while they were praying for us. Their prayers were from a deep place within. They were gutteral. Deep. Desperate for God to intercede.

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Both desperate
From deep places
Recognizing self’s limitations
Recognizing self’s brokenness
Recognizing self’s needs
Hoping for a cure.

Rising up.
Getting louder
Warm hands pressing grace into me
Community of voices
All different. Same heart for God.
Praying for unity and vision.
Humbled. Broken.

I’m lying beside Albert. We are groaning together.