Interpretting Injustice

I witnessed an act of injustice yesterday. It was brutal, to say the least. I say that as the by-stander, an on-looker into moments of the world of someone else – it was brutal. A man left a woman in tears and sobbing loudly enough to penetrate through the cold walls of my second-floor apartment–and the flesh walls of my heart. And it broke me apart.

You’re probably wondering what I did. I didn’t do anything.

I froze up. To say that fear was present in that moment in spite of the immediate adrenaline rush would be accurate. What do I do in this moment? What is appropriate for me to do in this moment?God, what do I do?

I was at a loss; I couldn’t go, yet still be present near enough to the office where my duty was, and so I simply watched helplessly as she slowly left my range of view. I don’t think any description I could give of the moment would communicate to you how very desperately helpless, useless, cold, powerless, I felt–and how shocking both the situation and my emotional response were to me.

Not that I’m shocked by feeling compassion, but I have never had such a download of the love of Jesus in the moment like that; it was mentally staggering, and I was unable to get it out of my mind the rest of that night to the point of tossing and turning in bed, unable to sleep. Somewhere along the line Jesus said to me, “And do you see how much I love my bride?” It was immense, and it was the immensity that shut me down.

And it would not leave my mind. I kept running it over in my mind, what could I have done? What shouldI have done? What would You have done, Jesus?

No answer. Not any that were clear or understandable, anyway–to this point.

I lay awake thinking and praying about it, praying in the Spirit because I didn’t know what to say or ask anymore, feeling completely like I missed an important moment. And all I got from Jesus was, “Stop worrying about her; I’m taking care of it – just pray.”

I’ve been thinking a lot about interpretation, the way I see things, the way I respond, my perspective, the lenses I see the world, people and God through. And interpretation has been in the back of my mind at all moments as I think back on yesterday. I keep wondering, God, do you have an interpretation for this that makes sense? What’s going on here? I still don’t know. I thought maybe drumming it all out here might shed some light on a different way to look at things, but I guess that’s the thing about getting God’s interpretation – it only comes in His time, as I become ready to receive it. If I had thought theoretically about a situation such as this my question to myself might have been, Would you do something? But in the moment of the raw compassion, it went to a level so much deeper than “Would you do something.It went to the core of my heart, and I would say Yes, I’ll do something. But Jesus? What can I do?

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