Me: Look at him: tough-guy swagger, droopy drawers, stone face. He’s trouble!
God: Why are you cursing my creation?
Me: What cursing? It’s the truth.
God: The truth? Really? Look at him with my eyes. Speak blessing into his life.
Me: I see a scared soul, a wounded spirit. Dear Lord, this poor soul is desperate for your shalom, your peace.
God: That’s better. Now what about that girl over there, the one draped over her boyfriend?
Me: Dear God, she’s looking for love in the wrong place. Wrap her in your loving arms. Be her strength, comfort and protection.
