Author: Dana

I’ve made it a habit when we visit Kinsey and Jordan in Birmingham to take morning walks on the nearby Samford University campus. Last week I noticed a sign saying the Sozo Children’s Choir would sing in the large assembly center that night.

Before her senior year in college, Karlyn spent the summer in Uganda working with the Sozo ministry caring for orphans who had experienced many difficulties. Going back to the days of Idi Amin, Ugandans have suffered at the hands of evil leaders. More recently, Joseph Kony has kidnapped thousands of children to carry out atrocities in his Lord’s Resistance Army reign of terror in northern Uganda.

Karlyn in 2014 and Kinsey and Jordan in 2015 witnessed firsthand the beauty of Uganda and the power of God’s love flowing through individuals intent on sacrificing physical comforts to serve children in need. When I texted Karlyn about the concert, she was sad she was not there to see the children she knew. She sent me a couple of pictures from her visit.

Our friends John and Suzanne Hunter, who live in Namibia, say that worship in heaven will be led by God’s African children. The choir was outstanding and the brief message about the future plans for the ministry was inspiring. But the best part of the night occurred when they asked the audience of nearly 1000 Americans to stand and worship the One who created us and loves us.

Karlyn texted that the youngest member of the choir was named Hannington and he would probably sing a solo. As we stood to worship, a small boy stepped forward and led: “You’re a good, good Father… it’s who You are, it’s who You are, it’s who You are… and I’m loved by You…” Through smiles and tears, praise was lifted to the One who is “perfect in all of His ways.”

Twenty-five children sang with beautiful voices the words below that God wants all of us to understand. May our lives be expressions of worship every day.

You unravel me with a melody, You surround me with a song
Of deliverance from my enemies till all my fears are gone
I’m no longer a slave to fear, I am a child of God
I’m no longer a slave to fear, I am a child of God
From my mother’s womb, You have chosen me, Love has called my name
I’ve been born again, into a family, Your blood flows through my veins
I’m no longer a slave to fear, I am a child of God
I’m no longer a slave to fear, I am a child of God
You split the sea so I could walk right through it, my fears were drowned in perfect love
You rescued me so I could stand and sing, I am a child of God

The blind and the lame came to Him at the temple, and He healed them. But when the chief priests and the teachers of the law saw the wonderful things He did and the children shouting in the temple courts, “Hosanna to the Son of David,” they were indignant. “Do You hear what these children are saying?” they asked Him. “Yes,” replied Jesus, “have you never read, ‘From the lips of children and infants You, Lord, have called forth Your praise’?” Matthew 21:14-16

“Good, Good Father” written by Pat Barrett
“No Longer Slaves” written by Jonathan Helser, Joel Case, and Brian Johnson

“Yeah… but I’m the prodigal son times twenty-seven.” This was Jim’s reply when I told him the Father is always welcoming home His prodigal children.

I’ve written about Jim several times over the years. He’s my friend whose pattern has been: leave the streets, get clean, work hard, bless people… then return to drugs and homelessness. He’s been gone fifteen months. I get pretty upset with Jim after his falls, but without fail, God always calls several of us to go to the streets and search for one we love.

Since last summer, I’ve been about 0 for 30 finding him. I’ve made new homeless friends in the ‘search zone’ and when departing I usually say, “Tell Jim I’m looking for him.”

A recent Saturday, our daughter Kinsey was in town, so I took her with me into Atlanta. She’s known and loved Jim most of her life. As we strolled my familiar route, she commented, “Dad, I’m impressed you know your way around.” Kinsey understands well my directional challenges.

After walking the narrow streets and alleys, we headed back to the car and saw a man pushing a bicycle. “That’s him,” I said to Kinsey. “Dana… Kinsey… what are you doing here?” We hugged and chatted, then followed Jim to the location he stays… a porch behind a bar. He asked about everyone in the church, he showed us his wounds from a recent bike accident, and he pointed out all the small businesses he helps for a little cash.

“Why don’t you come home with us, Jim? You can get a shower and a good meal and see everyone at church in the morning.” “No,” he replied. “I’ll just cry the whole time.” “We’ll all cry,” I said, “but that’s OK.” Then we made the ‘prodigal’ comments.

It’s a thought-provoking question: If the prodigal son left twenty-seven times, would the Father still welcome him back? When Jesus told Peter how many times to forgive a brother, I think He surpassed twenty-seven. It is no challenge for God, but I have a hard time grasping such a mentality. Anger, judgment, and cynicism easily crowd out mercy, love, and compassion.

But then I ask: How many times have I failed? How many times has the Father forgiven me? How many times have I returned to familiar dark paths? We may not retreat to drugs and homelessness, but other choices are just as wrong. But because of what Jesus did, the Father forgives. His arms are always welcoming the lost child. I want to be just like Him.

“Be compassionate, just as your Father is compassionate.” Luke 6:36

“Then Peter came to Jesus and asked, ‘Lord, how many times shall I forgive my brother or sister who sins against me? Up to seven times?’ Jesus answered, ‘I tell you, not seven times, but seventy-seven times.’” Matthew 18:21-22

We’ll be away Spring Break so I won’t write next week.
Happy Easter!!