Kingdom Come:: Blessed Are Those Who Mourn

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There is a way for us to behold glory, and it looks like reaching across the table and just crying with someone who’s hurting, not saying much.

Sometimes all you can say, your arms around them, is this sucks.

I understand what it means to be angry at God–I’ve been there–it’s okay.

Because really, that’s what God wants to say to them if He could, audibly, but He wants to use us.

Jumping into someone’s life and offering advice is a sacred thing. They’re making room for you in their secret places, their inner chambers, their heart of hearts, letting you see all their dirt and grime, the dust on the furniture, the stack of food-crusted dishes in the sink. And the last thing they want you to do is point it out, or to look embarrassed when they make apologies. It’s best to just give some serious disclosure —girl, look, you don’t even want to see my dishes right now–they are way worse.

There is a way to behold glory and it’s not in pretending we are righteous. It’s not in our walls and our thick layers that protect and our fears that keep others at a distance.

See, I have this huge dream to behold glory, to see Kingdom come here on earth. It’s a scary dream really, because I’ve been burned enough to put my faith right out.

But that’s the thing about hope–it’s stronger than fear. It just keeps enduring, keeps flickering back on and won’t be snuffed out. Satan hates this, I think.

There is a way to behold  glory and this dream is that The Church will trust God to save the millions, and stop marching forward with our crusade in haste, leaving the wounded and the weak in faith falling to the sides in our wake. I hope that we will love well the few right around us, that we will make the time to reach across tables, across pews, across airplane aisles and checkout counters, really see the people behind the eyes we are looking into.

I don’t like conquests just for conquest’s sake, and I don’t think God does either.

I dream that we will reach out with a hug when that someone walks in the door a little tear-eyed on a Sunday morning.

I dream of bringing groceries by to the family that lost an income, not because the pastor announced the event in the pulpit, and we think our name may be printed in the bulletin, but because they whispered it to us, they trusted us, and we quietly showed up, Jesus at their door.

I dream of personal, one-on-one, left-hand-not-knowing-what-the-right-hand-is-doing kind of ministry.

I dream of a time when we don’t call it ministry. We just call it Love.

Compassion doesn’t mean feeling sorry for someone–it means entering into suffering with them. This is what Jesus meant when he said Blessed are those who mourn.

Because last I checked, I sin everyday and God said none of us is righteous, not one.

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We are still using a grading system for our sins, for their sins, his sin, her sin, this group’s sin, that group’s sin, and just like the Pharisees we have so many unspoken rules.

Because of this, doors have been slammed shut in my face, too.

We think we have come so far. Yet, we deceive ourselves to think that we really have no sin, that we are not in a perpetual state of sinner-saved-by grace, a hopeless state of constant sinning, if not for the cross and grace of one very scandalously loving God.

We could ask ourselves this revolutionary question: How do we know they don’t go to sleep every night, sobbing, asking God to forgive them, to change them too, the ones we push away?

So I dream and I dream big. I dream of a time when all the walls will come down and we will love fierce. A time when we won’t be cowardly afraid of what’s thought of us if we invite that pregnant, unwed friend to church and sit next to them, because I’ve been that girl, and whether we all want to admit it or not, we have sins that are openly seen and ones that are hidden. I dream of a time we can sit down and have coffee with a well-known liberal friend and not look around to see who’s watching, or invite that gay couple in the neighborhood over for supper, just because well, we’re all human, aren’t we, and it’s what Jesus did.

I have hope, and this hope swells inside my chest til I believe it will explode and this is the question I’m asking: Shouldn’t we plead for all?

To tell them God is for them, that He loves them. Period. And if they trust us enough, maybe we get a chance to share the gospel.

I dream of a day when we don’t draw a line and throw words of hate back from our side, but instead, walk over to the picketers and boycotters and get to know them, share a meal together.

Because really, we are filthy rags and our love of self stinks.

So I dream of a better day when maybe pastors wear t-shirts and jeans, and church can be anywhere people are gathered in the name of Love, and the red carpet is laid out for all, like our Father does for us, for those who come looking for love a little dirty and disheveled and maybe their clothing and lifestyle a little different than ours.

I don’t dream of great exploits in God; I don’t dream of being a hero.

I do dream of beholding glory. I do dream of Kingdom come here on earth.

I dream of changing one stranger at a time with our genuine care, and I dream of a church, rising up out of the ash of their own bridges burned and beginning to build a crossway of Love.

~~Nacole Simmons 

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28 Comments on “Kingdom Come:: Blessed Are Those Who Mourn

  1. Friend, you have such a beautiful heart. This has me praying for the day we can share a cup of coffee together because you so speak where my heart is on loving others. Loved this… “So I dream and I dream big. I dream of a time when all the walls will come down and we will love fierce.” So with you on dreaming this same dream.
    love you!!!!
    Beth

    • Beth, you stir me in a special way. Your kindness to reach out to someone you just met? Truly inspiring, friend. I can’t *wait* to giggle and share our hearts over hot tea, or wine, or something…?? I love you, too.

  2. Everywhere I’ve been reading lately is about the table. Let me just say it’s been ringing loud and clear as truth to this little heart of mine. Nacole, you continue to blow me away with your writing, not just in this post but on your blog as well. The world needs your voice. Keep sharing it.

    • To me too, Tams! *LOUD* and clear. Like a bell. And a whisper. And a fresh breeze. A revival fire that doesn’t have to be conjured up, but comes as it may, as He wills, and I only want to step out of the way.

    • I am so with Tammy. Your voice is purposed. His glory is radiant through you. And it’s why He has impressed you on my heart for this vision I have.

  3. YOU bring (the equivalent of) groceries quietly to my door – not because I’ve made a big announcement about it on social media – but because you have that rarest kind of gentle listening ear. You, my friend, have a heart that senses what is beyond the glossy pictures and the snarky replies – the only kind that hear those type of whispers.

    Bless you, Nacole. Thanks for living love.

    • Really? Ah, how do you always do that, love? Make me breathless and speechless? I keep hitting a few keys, and backspacing, because I. don’t. know. what. to say. This is the loveliest thing anyone’s ever said to me. (((you))).

  4. yes, I’ve experienced church outside of a building with a steeple, and it IS possible. We can LIVE it. Thank you always for your beautiful words, Nacole.

  5. It’s the very thing I just wrote about. I do not ever again want to live just to invite people to church…. I want to invite others to Christ through my life and be the Church the way it’s been to me. Thanks for being Church here today. ❤

    • Lorretta, I saw that post, and I *want* to read it, friend. Really. I find myself, with limited capabilities when it comes to the net and reading, but this one calls for my attention. Pray with me God will help me with this limitation? *Thank you* for the steady encouragement and support along the way–it means more than you know. xo.

  6. You blow me away with your beautiful soul, Nacole. Keep dreaming big’ keep the flame and hope alive; keep stepping out and reaching with arms spread wide to embrace the world. We are so thankful for seeing the kingdom already coming in people like you. You inspire us more than you’ll ever know in writing, faith and life. 🙂 x

  7. Oh my goodness, this is truly beautifully amazing, friend! Amen to every word. You speak my heart. Thank you for wrapping it in such a beautiful arrangement. Wow. This is a gift and YOU are a gift. May God’s Kingdom come and His will be done on earth as it is in Heaven!

  8. I’m dreaming that dream with you! I’m praying for the walls to come down and the wounds to be bound. Jesus, help us all to do our part. Thank you for this beautiful post, for letting me know I’m not wall-wrecking on my own. ❤ Heart Hugs, Shelly

  9. Amen, friend. I could say a whole bunch about this… just know that our hearts are the same on these issues. I see a BIG table and lots of chairs. I’m usually seated at the awkward place in the middle, my knees bumping. I love your heart and love that you are here~ your voice is a gift.

  10. This passion is beautiful and contagious. I believe that your dream will come about as we come to know just how loved we are. Not just how we the church are loved, but ME. He loves me. Girl, I think you are a fresh breath of air.

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