We pass through the hotel casino headed for our room after an evening meal.
Making our way through the crowd, we keep it all a blur at a distance.
Curt has gotten good at that over the years.
How grateful I am for a man who cherishes me with every fiber of his being.
At the elevator we are in line behind two clowns--
Halloween a little early, I suppose.
Drinks in hand--obviously not the first ones for the night--they ride to the 20th floor.
Bold, uninhibited, and pitiful.
Drowning their emptiness in the liquid, they shuffle off down the hall.
I look up at Curt, and he understands why my eyes spill sorrow.
Everywhere in this dark place,
weathered, broken-down, washed-out, shattered people.
It hurts to see them.
Like the pilot I read about recently,*
they are flying upside down and don't even know it.
What if I had not had the influence of Jesus seared into my soul?
What if I had not had guidance to steer me around land mines scattered over the landscape of life?
I hate sin.
I hate the consequences of sin.
I long for the world to be fresh and new and remade into what God intended.
My prayer is that He will help me be a part of His eternal kingdom,
and that He will help me know who I can bring with me!
*Dallas Willard, The Divine Conspiracy Chapter 1, page 1