As I worshipped with my squad tonight and reflected on the day's experience of visiting the city's garbage dump these words came to my mind. Through them I hope to convey just a taste of my experience during these couple of hours.
When The Silence Comes
There is a time for everything, including silence.
Unfortunately the hustle and bustle of the American way drowns it out.
Sometimes leaving this lifestyle behind is what it takes in order to soak it in.
Soaking in silence is an art, a skill that is perfected with time.
While this process of soaking is often uncomfortable, it is necessary
because when the silence comes cries are heard.
Cries of those long forgotten by society
and relegated to scouring a dump for a living.
When the silence comes the sight, smell and feel of places come flooding back.
Areas that have been tucked out of sight and out of mind
because we could really care less about what happens in them and to them.
When the silence comes faces are seen.
Faces of those desperately in need of love
but not in the superficial in and out sort of way that those of us who are blessed tend to do.
It has to be a genuine love that sees past the filthy rags that they call clothes.
It has to be a genuine love that ignores the stench of the mounds of garbage.
It has to be a genuine love that pierces body and mind all the way to the core
a love that comes only from the Father.
So let the silence come
because in the silence everything is set right.
