I have to write this before I can fall asleep, it is just too overpowering on my heart.

At dinner with my sister my hands were shaking. I showed her and thought it might be because I hadn't had enough to eat, or that it was a very stressful morning. She thought perhaps I'd had too much caffeine (but I'd had less than normal). Then I realized what it was.

I was supposed to have read this book for Honors English by today, and being limited in time and having two papers to write this week I ended up scanning through it in the hour and a half before class. I read the intro, some of the middle, and the last few chapters. In that I came across a lot of junk. The book was very dark, and included one reference that made a mess of me. (I should preface this that I am taking a noir class on detective fiction). There was a character murdered who had 'dealt in little boys.' In my minimal reading, I came across a passing reference to him molesting a little boy. It was subtle, but it punched me in the stomach as I was pretty certain it really was saying what I thought. Oh GOD. Even writing it right now, I hurt and feel sick. As I told a friend before class how much I disliked the book and why he said "Kati, it's fiction." But it's not. That character may have been made up, but 'that' story isn't really fiction.

Now tonight, lying in bed reading Perpetua, whatever was in my heart and spirit is finally released. God is so faithful. So loving. I am struggling to put words to what is in my heart- accurate words to the crazy feelings in my stomach. I'm reading this novel based on the journals of an old Roman Christian Martyr, Perpetua. In the story, a little 2 year who she adores (he's practically her nephew) is sacrificed. It wasn't that, that most got me. It's when she is hearing the story of Jesus and she is seeing WHO He is for the first time. It's like as she is placing the little boy (Tumi) into the story of Jesus telling the disciples to let the children come unto Him, I was placing the little boy from the story this afternoon into it as well... the darkness can seem so stifling sometimes, and when the Light peirces through, sometimes it's so bright and beautiful and loving that you wonder if you've ever really seen it before. Jesus is Love. Not in a cheap or weak way- but in the realest way I've ever tasted known- or NOT known. I want to tear away this veil that keeps me from the reality of who He is, and His power to restore. I want to magically find the words right now that stop saying the cheap, poor things that have been said before and somehow spills out the throbbing tears in my chest right now onto this page-- that they can grip the people who read this, not as my revelation of the magnificence of Jesus- but as their own heartbreaking experience that wrecks them. I want to feel this every moment, of every day... because if I did, I'd know Him... and I'd actually love people, and do something that really healed their heart and brought them into that same real love. I want to see something real happen. I want to see people's lives changed. I want to see those who have been molested, raped, broken, beaten, abandoned see a God who can make them completely new, whole, healed, restored, loved. I want to see their pain forgotten. I want to see brightness in their eyes again. I want to see innocence brought back to a person who's long forgotten it. I want to see value in the countenance of someone who's long been told they are nothing. I want to see an orphan KNOW they are a son- with an inheritance and purpose. I want to see an alcoholic, not need a drink... and be free. I want to see a woman who has lost everything she loves, and been forgotten by those who should be seeking her good, find a Love that convinces her she can trust and that He has never forgotten or forsaken her. That what she misses, He's taking care of.

I don't want to live a life of shadows, good messages, debates, toeing lines and just handing out sandwiches on Friday nights. I'll do all that- but I won't be satisfied with it. I'm in love with a King, who became a slave!! How can I be satisfied with slogans?! I'm in love with the Teacher, who treasured noisy children. I'm in love with the man who wasn't afraid to have dinner with the criminals and have a prostitute cause a scene at His feet. I'm in love with a God who broke down in a garden, and who taught His disciples that His father wants mercy and obedience more than He desires sacrifice.... and then gave mercy, obedience, AND sacrifice, through death. And then, He even conquered death.

So I want to live something greater. I'm with Paul- It's no longer I who lives, but Christ who lives in me! To live is Christ, and to die is gain! I know you'll judge what you see today... but I'm not going to back away and delete this post, because the longing in my heart is just too great. I want to see the hurt around me healed. I want the love I feel for my friends and family to become so overpowering that it actually becomes something that's not me, but is Christ and therefore has the power to actually overcome the circumstances in their lives that are causing them that pain, and change their lives as they know it!

"Tumi! Tumi!" Jesus called. The little boy let go of my hand and turned back, running towards Jesus. A flying leap landed him square on the Lord's lap, muddy feet and dirty hands making prints all over God's clothes. Jesus cuddled him closer than I ever did. I watched Him speak into Tumi's ear as I approached, all the while tussling his hair, squeezing his chubby arms. His hands remained protectively around my baby when He turned, and rebuked those disciples: "Let the little children come to Me, and do not forbid them; for of such is the kingdom of God..." They looked shamefacedly at the ground. "Assuredly, I say to you, whoever does not receive the kingdom of God as a little child will by no means enter it." He stood as He spoke, and transferred Tumi back into my arms with one long look into my eyes. I reluctant moved away to leave room for the mothers who'd come back at His words. He scooped up child after child, touching and blessing, caressing them. Perhaps he spent the rest of the day playing with children. Perhaps He taught His disciples how to."

Amy Rachel Peterson, Perpetua, p 67

Above is the passage that set me over the limit. Perpetua has just witnessed the sacrifice of the sweet little boy the night before, and here, as she is learning about God for the first time, she's imagining Tumi with Jesus. If Jesus rebuked His disciples for turning the little children away... how His heart must break and His fury fly for the children who are molested, abused, sold into the sex trade, and forgotten and abandoned. Oh God! Heal the hearts of the women who have aborted their children. Heal the hearts of the women who have lost their babies against their will, dreams, and desires. I know Your love is greater for those children then theirs, mine, or any man's. I know Your love for those mothers is incomparable.

Don't let us just cry at night in our beds for pity or passion... let it become a holy fire... use me, somehow. I don't know how. But move on their behalf. Move through me.

Oh Lord, You are beautiful. Your face is all I see. And when Your eyes are on this child, Your grace abounds to me. I want to take your Light and shine it all around, but first help me just to live it Lord.