Millions of Hearts
I once heard a comedian quickly list all the familiar songs about love commonly know to the current American population. It was entertaining, amusing and enlightening. The hope of love is a motivating force with great strength. Everyone wants to experience love, but love begins on the inside of one heart, specifically mine. I can only dictate one action, one motive, one reaction…..mine. My heart may change another’s but that is irrelevant, I am accountable for my love or lack there of. I dream of a world that will build a bridge between your heart and mine, or a love that will keep us together. Love is something that I do whether the one standing next to me does or not.
When Christ was hanging on the cross, HE WAS LOVING! Everyone else was paralyzed with fear or hating, but God the Father and His Son Jesus Christ were loving. If we want to change the world, love must begin in the heart of one. A million is just a bunch of little ones.
I am reposting a story my father told me when I was young. It changed me as it changed him in his time. I long that it will change and encourage others. But if not, I chose love.
Love,
Gretchen
Desegregation of the Heart
My grandparents pastored a church in Batesville, Arkansas. Batesville is a lovely community on the banks of the White River, but in the late 1940’s it was a city divided by color.
My father tells that one afternoon a black man came walking down the street in front of the church parsonage carrying a beehive on the end of a pole. (This was how you moved bees and started a new colony.) This gentleman’s path followed the middle of the street as he was not welcomed to walk on either side near the homes. Dad and his older brother began mocking and tossing rocks at the man, but in true segregated fashion, the dark skinned victim of their ridicule meekly continued on his march without reacting to my father and uncle’s cruel behavior. Granddad interrupted the scene by calling the boys back into the yard. Nothing was said at the time, and these two young boys thought the event was over and done.
A few hours later grandmother called the family to dinner but instead of setting down to the delicious meal granddad took a warm fruit pie off the counter, called the boys to his side and began a long walk to the “other” side of town. I don’t know what conversation accompanied the trio as they journeyed block after block in the late evening sun inhaling the aroma of a dessert they would never enjoy, but somewhere along the way dad and uncle realized the wrong they had done and disrespect to another human being for any reason would not be tolerated.
Granddad found the home of gentleman beekeeper and waited patiently while dad and uncle humbled themselves to a black man on his front porch, on the wrong side of town in 1940’s rural Arkansas. From what I know now of these two Godly men, they didn’t just apologize, they made a commitment to a lifetime of seeing all humans as God sees them.
It is very arrogant of man to think we need to ‘correct’ God with our attitude toward one another. It has been observed that the most segregated hour of the week is from 10:00 a.m. to 11:00 a.m. on Sunday morning. Many people have tried to change this trend but, with the chronological and cultural preferences and tastes, change isn’t going to happen soon. Yet, we must understand and know, God didn’t create a world of monotony. He isn’t going to start making us all the same now because He realizes He did wrong thousands of years ago and He needs a redo. His plan for diversity was and is to fill the earth, grant His children blessing, meet their physical need and glorify Himself. If you take the entire love chapter (I Corinthians 13) and apply it to the complexity and diversity of the human race you can see that there is no room for prejudice. Love one another because He first loved us and love never fails!
Gretchen
