Standing On The Shores Of Rome

I stepped onto the beach; crashing waves became louder as I walked towards the water. The sun was low in the sky as white fluffy clouds began to turn pink. The Wind is at my back, pushing me towards the ocean.

I come here often to listen, find peace, and look at the horizon, where the ocean never ends. There is a longing to keep walking towards the horizon, hoping to see the New Kingdom, but I stop as the cold, icy waters flow over my feet and up to my ankles. I long for home.

As my ankles become numb from the cold water, it reminds me of my cold world. Like my ankles, I often become numb to the cold world in which I live. Yet, I look at the horizon as the sun sets with brilliant colors, wondering, “How long, Oh Lord? How long?”

My feet are standing on the shores of Rome,
While my heart is longing for a home
where the first will be last,
and the last shall be first,
The refugee will be home,
Those who hunger will be satisfied,
The orphan will have a family
The powerful and corrupt will be brought to ruins
and true justice will reign.

I stand on the shores of Rome,
where empathy is seen as a weakness,
where financial efficiency is more important than human suffering
where the need for power and control are more important than faith and trust
Where the foreigner is dehumanized instead of seen as the imago dei
Where the poor are accused of working the system, while the wealthy are celebrated for finding loopholes.

But, just as the sun passes over the horizon, the sky lights on fire with colors of reds and oranges, the Wind shifts and begins blowing in my face. It feels like the Wind is pushing me back into the cold world, back into Rome.

I turn back to the way I came. The Wind whispers in my ear, “Go back and seek justice, love mercy, and walk humbly with God. Feed the hungry, clothe the naked, provide shelter for the foreigner, look after the sick, visit the imprisoned, announce the Good News to the poor.”

As I began walking, the Wind spoke again, “Live in the Kingdom now.”