Yesterday we spent time with Judith and the church . . . and as the service began four young guys came in - - high on something. I've never been in a church service quite like that one. these guys were crazy and stinky; they danced in the aisles; they called out song requests in the middle of the sermon; they tried to wrestle the microphone out of the teacher's hands so that they could rap . . .
We all fumbled our way through the service; trying to respond appropriately to the unfamiliar scenario; and at the end of the service Judith wrapped her arm around the most obnoxious one (oh, I don't think this wiry little guy could have been older than 16); she held him tight and stroked his cheek - - as if he was her own, and she prayed for him. That boy stood still for the first time all morning; he stopped twitching and his face relaxed; he stood still until Judith finished.
I have been thinking about Judith for the past couple of days; I want my heart to be as bold and tender as hers.
(please, please God . . . make me bold; make me tender)