what if houston: justice rally day 1

what if houston.

what if orlando.

what if dc.

what if cambodia.

what if thailand.

what if london.

justice rally 2017. Elijah Rising, Cat French, dear Lord, thank you for creating your presence 10 years ago. today I gathered in a room with over a hundred individuals, ranging from canada, to korea, to maryland, to hawaii, to our very own city. and we all had one thing in common: a righteous desire to bring about the upheaval of the sex trade. praise and glory be the the god that plants seeds of revolution in us.

there’s something 189% beautiful about a community that rises up. and as a church, we can get good at pushing people towards the dark in our making shame. but you know, I heard some truth words today. real religion is meeting the orphans, the widows, the powerless where they’re at. and maybe it’s time to pull the church into the darkness in order to pull it into the light. who are we to protest unless we’re in the midst?

maybe it’s time to pull the church into the darkness in order to pull it into the light.

as I sat in the car tonight after the beauty of music and intercession, I was wrapped in arms and I felt my heart pour out my eyes. the presence of a father is real when you open your heart and hold it out in your hands and whisper a “take it, please.” it just might be broken in a harshly real way. here we go into the dark to be the light and here I am with a crushed heart, but a soaring spirit. so, I overflow on his shoulder and gulp life back into me.

I have a dream, you see, that every latina girl, every runaway, every asian woman, every pimp, every customer, will be redeemed. will be lifted high on the shoulders of the almighty and have their broken cracks filled with real love.

because those girls, those pimps, those customers don’t experience real love.
real love is my heavenly father answering prayer.
real love is the dinner my Daddy makes after he gets home from a full time job.
real love is The Guitarist’s hug wrapping.
real love is my Mama birthing her little ones.

real love is never coupled with manipulation, beatings, and torture. I beg to scream and differ. rather, that is real evil. real fallenness. real depravity. real love doesn’t create bondage, the kind that ties your soul to the despair. rather, our real love should start melting down those chains of real evil when we let a real Savior lick his flames through us. when the let the holy spirit consume us in a way that drives us to our knees, to our feet, into arms, into the street.

let’s start creating. creating a real love that’s wrapped up in real religion that’s coupled with real compassion. let’s start becoming so love filled in our cracks that it creeps into our eyes and strangers do a double take to say, “is that so and so or is that christ…” because I don’t want to be a savior, but rather a mirror of a savior that is a Savior. I want to be a hand holding believer that’s not wrapped up in agenda, but rather a desperation for the love of the father in the heavens to be imprinted on me, on you, on her, on him, on the pimp, on the bouncer.

so, what if what if what if the church started making moves towards changing a generation, a culture, of sexual bondage? what if what if what if we started befriending our sisters in brothels, strip culbs, cantinas, on the streets? what if what if what if we became a culture that correctly empowered men to be men in the most beautiful sense? what if what if what if it wasn’t just The Guitarist and I clutching hands in prayer on our row, but rather the entirety of the attendance? what if what if what if we took the passion, the exuberance that I just saw and acted it out on sundays, in Burger King, on the street corners?

what if houston.

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