Blowing in the Wind

My thoughts are often consumed...

sometimes I think I can feel three thousand little hearts beating...

and I want you to know their story.

I will fight for them.

But not just for them.

I will fight for humanity.

For all the ones Jesus loves.

-

All day yesterday, I saw people walking around campus with green t-shirts and backpacks on. I'd smile, quietly, knowing that I'd see them soon. They were one of us, we were on the same team, whoever they were, wherever they were going. I could tell just by watching. I want Christians to be this way. I want to look at you (not what you are wearing, not the music you are listening to, not the bumper stickers on your car - just you.) and be able to identify you as one of Christ's loved ones. I want to know you... because you love the world. I want to recognize you... because you are full of grace.

I walked into Triangle Park and was nearly blown away by the wind.

Bob Dylan played over the loud speakers, "Yes, 'n' how many ears must one man have Before he can hear people cry? Yes, 'n' how many deaths will it take till he knows That too many people have died? The answer, my friend, is blowin' in the wind..."

We struggled to put up the tents, to secure them into the lawn so they didn't blow away. My hair was in my eyes, the leaves rustled over my head.

The forecast had said: 80 degrees, sunny, and lots of wind.

For some, it was a nuisance.

For me, it indicated the presence of God.

God was with us... because He created those three thousand little hearts that I can feel beating.

-

I stood with pamphlets in my hands, waiting for them.

The abductees.

We kept getting phone calls that the ceremonious walk had begun.

They were coming.

We waited in anticipation. I imagined their footsteps were like drum beats... creating a rhythm all of Lexington could hear, could feel.

Then I saw them.

A mass of people. All in green.

-

Our project had begun.

We laid out our sleeping bags, filled out water bottles. Some rolled up their pants legs and waded in the fountains.

We registered people, collected money, started making phone calls.

Together, we were waiting to be rescued.

We needed some to come and see us. Find us worthy of saving.

To ceremoniously lead us out of captivity.

-

Periodically, one of the volunteers in blue shirts would get up and announce some form of progress. We raised one flag after the other - indicating a step completed, a goal reached.

The celebration that would ensue was strongest amongst those of us who understood what was happening. Loudest throughout those who were invested, who were in love with the abducted soldiers of the LRA.

-

Then we were rescued.

By a man, who not only represented our government, but believed personally in our cause as well.

The media showed up - whether out of obligation, annoyance, or curiosity. Tonight, on the 11 o'clock news, the footage will be shown.

-

And our waiting turned into a celebration. Shouting, clapping, pictures, ceremoniously raising flags, hugging, and at one point... a group of people gathered in the middle of the park to pray.

But there were hundreds of people still waiting.

In cities around us, in neighboring states, there were people gathered, rallying, raising awareness just like us.

Waiting to be rescued.

So we sent a few of our people... with an address and a GPS... up to West Virginia.

Rescue Riders.

Coming to the rescue - adding to their numbers. Joining forces, voices, hands.

All over the country last night and this morning, teams have been rescued, and have sent others out to help rescue more...

-

We would spend the rest of the night in the park.

With the trees illuminated with lights.

The fountains gurgling, casting dancing shadows on the sidewalk chalk drawings.

The wind would blow all night long.

And as the city of Lexington slowly fell asleep, so did a few of us.

-

But I laid there. In a sleeping bag.

I drifted between alertness and a light sleep.

I heard as the people around me slowly wound down, crawled under blankets, laid their heads on pillows. As a guy from Asbury slowly picked away at his guitar, as the buggies flew by with their sirens on.

At some point in the night, I rolled over and looked up at the sky.

I felt so protected.

Not at all like I was laying in an open park in the middle of downtown Lexington.

But like I was enclosed... safe and dry and warm.

I felt my heart beating in my chest.

-

When the sun rose, I rolled over in my sleeping bag and watched the morning light crawl over dozens of sleeping bodies, scattered randomly across the park lawn. One person stirred. Then another.

Before long, we had the park back to normal. All tents disassembled, all trash thrown away, all sleeping bags rolled up and loaded in cars.

We left the park better than we had found it.

There was no trace of us.

Except for the sidewalk chalk drawings...

"If we don't save them, who will?"

-

I never expected to have enough room in my heart for this.

-

As Nikki and I walked away from the park today, all I could think was how last night changed my life.

How my first experience with true advocacy, might only be the very first time... the beginning of a journey.

And how I hoped the next time we all gathered for the sake of 3,000 children from Africa, it would be to rejoice their homecoming.

To celebrate their rescue.