a confession.

a few weeks ago, I was driving through rural georgia when I noticed a new addition to the skyline of billboards. it read:

“TRUMP – pray for our country, take back our nation”

and so my heart broke.

not because of my political leanings, or for any personal opinions I hold. but mainly because of what that very same billboard used to read. not too long ago, when someone drove past that lit-up advertisement in the sky, they would have seen the name of a different man. back then, it read, simply:

“JESUS”.

same font, same colors, same placement.

an entirely different name.

the more I look at my country, and it’s complex and confusing characterization of Christianity — the more my heart breaks.

and the more I find myself wondering, and praying, “Oh my God, is this really what you intended?”

I won’t allow myself to become yet another voice trying to interpret what Jesus might have to say this election season. mostly because in this brokenness I too find myself asking of God, “Where are you in all of this?”

oh Lord, where are you?

as this fantastic entry on the She Reads Truth website puts it –

“Where was God? He was where He had always been. He was on the throne, where He remains today—sovereign and good and evermore at work.

He is, and always will be, with us.

though, are we with Him?

my confession is this: I wonder how I can feel so close to God, and so far from Christianity. I wonder what to do when I feel my heart breaking when I see the twisting and distorting of Christianity occurring right before my eyes.

I wonder how to live in a world where my Christian friends are adamantly, passionately against abortion and premarital sex and drunkenness and yet — yet. they say nothing in the face of casual racism, sexism, and homophobia. they are wary of immigrants and refugees. they want nothing to do with social welfare. and they have misplaced their hopes, giving them entirely over to an outspoken, unrepentant political candidate.

I wonder why certain evils make you a bad Christian, and others we allow to be brushed under the rug.

I wonder why I feel my heart breaking so often.

I don’t mean this as a political commentary, although many may take the opportunity to read it as such.

I just wonder.

oh Lord, where are you?

 

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