My most recent sermon preached at New Day Church: Claiming Space, Choosing Home
She kept looking. His eyes might have reflected some faraway place she’d dreamed of but never believed.
Don’t forget that we exist.
She hoped with every ounce of her being that he’d give more information. She’d always dreamed of knowing. Just a moment ago she’d been shocked to find this stranger in her home. She’d been terrified. She’d almost had him eliminated for good.
“Are you coming with me or what?” he asked, standing up to leave. “It’s up to you. People are depending on you, especially the children. Please understand the life and death impact of your decision. But please also know you have to choose.”
She looked at her husband, sitting comfortably in their love seat, staring back at her. He seemed calm, as if a stranger hadn’t just told her that he was her brother and that he’d come to bring her back to her people. Did he understand what was happening? Had he already known about this?
“I just don’t understand how this is possible. How am I needed? Is there a real place to go? I’ve never believed in a real place to go.”
He looked at her, triggered and impatient. “Can I just take you there?”
But I don’t trust you.
He looked down at the floor and then lifted his head. “For once, if this is suddenly taken away from you thoughtlessly — if someone refuses to see it or cuts your story at its knees, the same exact thing will be happening to me. And I’ll echo that back to you. I see you. I’m your brother. We’re family.”
Her body shook as she held out her hand (that’s what happens when she catches the spirit).
one day i will make my own music. it’ll be a fusion of hip hop filipino folk hymns and gospel..
how much time have I wasted not really saying the thing I want to say?
or is it all just “part of the process”