Some mornings we go down to the marketplace and pray for the people. We do our best to pray for justice, pray for love, pray for the end to corruption. Today, we went down the the market, and to be honest, I thought, "What's the point, God? Why are we praying AGAIN today? What are you doing here?"
Instead of turning down our normal path to go to the market, the van weaved and shimmed down other dirt roads that we had not been before. We looked at each other uncomfortably. It stopped in front of a white, run down government building. People congregated in front to pay bills and do the daily grind. We got ushered into the building to a room with a big man, dressed very neatly. He sat down and introduced himself. It was a name I had never heard. He then proceeded to tell us that he had a hard time being the new mayor of the Puerto Barrios, however, he wanted prayer to do what God wanted him to do. In his eyes, I saw the stress, the pain, the sacrifice he had done to get to his power of influence.
So, instead of offering what everyone else was giving him, one of the gals in our group began playing her guitar. Very softly, we began to worship. The volume swelled until, in the middle of the Mayor's office, we were worshiping God. When everything was said and done, we prayed for the mayor and his office staff. When we were done, tears fell from their eyes.
Sometimes I forget that in spite of our differences, our positions, our agendas, we all long for the same thing: For love to lead us to where we need to be.
When we were done, he shook our hands, and embraced us warmly.
In the end, I believe we were hugging the Savior, resurrected in broken people.
