In church, where I was free to go, where worship music played without cause of action, and people sang to God without fear, I found myself moved to the point of wanting to leap to my feet with arms raised before my Father. The message of the words to music were a cry from my heart I couldn't contain and my feet ached to stand and I...
Because everyone else was. Because I would have been the only one among several hundred people making any movement and would have drawn unwanted attention...so I just. sat. there.
And felt ashamed.
Because I cared more about what 300 people might think of me than the stirring in my soul.
Because I buried the moment of being in the presence of my Father for the sake of self preservation.
Because I assumed embarrasment....
and ended up
Ashamed for 33 reasons.
For the 33 men, women, mothers, fathers, husbands, and wives who only cared what their Father thought.
For the 33 beautiful hands and feet who served under penalty of death.
For the 33 whose church met underground, who sing in their hearts instead of microphone, who are persecuted into silence.
For the 33 who stood up when their heart stirred knowing it was choosing death.
For the 33 who will be massacred for the love of their Father.
For the 33 condemned to death who know more about being alive than I ever have.
For the 33 who could define the word "appreciation" for the freedom of worship that I forsook as I
I read another article with a title of the 33 lives being "dead by morning". But I know in my ashamed-to-stand heart that these 33 will be more alive by morning than our language and human brokenness could ever grasp, obtain, or define.
For the 33 who would have never taken my place for granted...I'll stand.
For the 33 who taught me what being alive really is...I'll stand.
And for the 33 I eagerly wait to embrace in Heaven...I will stand.