“I feel it in my bones,
You’re about to move
I feel it in the wind,
You’re about to ride in”
New York City: crafted on the notion of freedom, positioned on the bedrock of liberty, and chosen as the vessel of REBIRTH—a city that prides itself on its independence and nonconformity. But when the layers are peeled back, you see multitudes longing to be loved. Known. Seen. Heard. We went in to shift the trend, of being strong, being independent, and being lost in one anothers’ own individual world.
It’s easy to be overwhelmed by the desperate need all around, especially in a city like New York. But we are light-bearers, atmosphere shifters. Called not to curse the darkness, but to light a candle. We found that if you simply love the one in front of you, even in the seeming mundane of day-to-day life, you’ll eventually find that you’ve loved the masses, and shifted the atmosphere over an entire city. For eternity is written on the hearts of every man, woman, and child—a longing for heaven. A longing to be loved, restored to unbroken fellowship with the One who made them. And our weak yes pours forth Heaven’s deep, saturating and satisfying weary souls.
“Lord let us hear these people” – was our collective cry. Desperate, we were, to be His hands and His feet, His ears that listen and heart that never gets offended but suffers LONG. His vessels, of HOPE. For three days we got to stand in the gap as ministers of reconciliation, ambassadors of covenant, pulling heaven and earth to collide, that LIFE would spring forth from dust. On the third day we were there, we headed to serve a ministry that feeds the homeless in one of the rougher parks in NYC.
Tompkins Square Park
In the crossover over of East Village, the Lower East Side, and Alphabet City, there’s a park. Filled with the hurting, the broken, the poor, the cast-aside, those stepped over, overlooked and unseen by many. Locals say, homeless go here to hide and to fade away in their darkness. Addicts, shooting up heroin and drinking themselves into oblivion, at 10 o’clock in the morning. Lines of the homeless and the poor, waiting for a piece of bread, soup and some juice. It was dirty, gritty, heavy and raw. The smell of urine and cigarettes, permeating the atmosphere. Yet it was in this place of deep pain and darkness that we found GOLD, in abundance.
Each one had a story, worthy of being heard, worthy of being told. Overcomers. Dreamers. Visionaries. Strengtheners. All filled with fierce resolve and resilience—but still running, in pursuit of some undefined thing, just out of reach. We sat with them for hours. We laughed. We cried. Determined to draw forth the beauty in the ash heap, that even they would see for themselves who they truly are.
We so clearly saw the thumbprint of Heaven, the image of God, pressed into the faces and smiles of each person in Tompkins Square Park; even in the midst of the overlay of destitution, and the masks and cloaks of their own choosing, the breathtakingly beautiful treasure, implanted into the core of their being by the Creator, could not be erased.
From Flatbush to Wall Street, Jesus is rewriting histories and healing broken hearts, with his boundless mercy and unfailing love. For His blood is enough, and calls us each by name: Beloved. Son. Daughter. It calls us to come home.
Our team left NYC, forever marked by a longing to drip with His matchless Love. A love that says, “you are PURE. HOLY. BEAUTIFUL.” A love that says, “I CHOOSE YOU in your darkest.”
I feel it my bones,
He’s about to MOVE
I feel it in my bones,
He’s about to ride in;
HOPE is etched into the skies over New York City as beacons of mercy burn brightly through even the darkest of nights.
Lord, Let us BECOME LOVE, in the darkest places.