My eyes were opened this weekend. I had the privilege of being involved in a
prayer walk against sex trafficking in my town. We went to different pivotal places downtown
and prayed for God’s dominion over the activities and the people in those
places—City Hall, the county jail, a local motel known for their hourly rates,
several ministries dedicated to healing people from addictions, prostitution,
homelessness, and abuse—and ended the walk with a powerful educational
presentation about sex trafficking in our area.
So although I learned a great deal about the complex issues
revolving around sex trafficking, that’s not the area where my eyes were
opened.
It was while we were standing in the motel parking lot. A certain lady was praying; I’ve only
recently met her, and I hope to know her better because her heart is at least
as big as our city. She was praying that
the motel would no longer be known as a place for men to get illicit sex. But then she prayed for the owner of the motel. She didn’t pray destruction on his
business. She prayed prosperity
instead. She prayed he would come to
know True Love, and understand what damaging things were occurring at his
business, and that he would willingly change his business practices. That with his change of heart, God would
bless his business. That God would also
convict the men who came to the motel for sex—for them to see the “women” as
scared little girls, underage girls, somebody’s child, and they would no longer
hurt themselves and the girls. That they
would work on repairing their own lives.
And that God would bless them for it.
Whoa.
Suddenly, I thought, “Is
Jesus praying here, or what?” Because
it sounded so New Testament. And I
wondered why in the world I’d never heard people pray like that before.
I am accustomed to Old Testament, Psalms-type prayers. You know, “smite my enemies” prayers, where
you ask God to bless you and your friends and other Christians, but tell him to
destroy those evil pagans. Conveniently
forgetting that you were once a pagan and an enemy of God yourself.
Yeah, I was convicted. I’ve come to see her perspective in a
small scale over the past few years.
Mostly, because when I think about people who have severely injured me,
I have realized what would be best for everyone involved would be for them to
repent and for me to forgive. It’s best
for them to repent, because it removes the barrier in their relationship with
God; and it’s best for me to forgive because it allows me to fully heal from my
injury. Retribution or sustained anger
against another person only fuels the trauma of their sin against you. So when I’ve sat and contemplated the “ideal
resolution” in personal situations, I’ve realized grace is infinitely better
than punishment.
For some idiotic reason, I never globalized that
perspective.
It is amazing how freeing it is, because it truly multiplies the love within your own heart. I could burst.
