Outcasts

Like every Saturday night, we took to the streets of Zona Norte. Usually we stop in the busiest part of downtown to worship and pray. These streets are bright and loud, lights are flashing, food is cooking, people are rushing. But last night we decided to head towards the side streets, the streets that aren't lit up by bright lights and flashing signs. These streets are smelly, and dark. These streets are the streets the women work on that don't get offered a job in the strip clubs and bars. These are the streets that according to society, the lowest of the low are on. So, we decided to pray and worship here. 

Usually we are are a group of about 10. If one person stops to talk to someone, the whole group stops, we are fluid, together but spread out.  
We were walking along the sidewalk and we hear a prostitute laughing and laughing (I think she may have been under the influence of something). A couple of us stopped and began to talk to her. While we talked with her and prayed with her, people began to come out of the woodwork. We always bring a guitar, this attracts people, but I also believe it's the power of the Holy Spirit that causes people to approach us. We began to sing with a man who had a guitar of his own, while another group began to talk with a homeless man. Some ladies stopped and began to sing with us as well. It was incredible. Before we left for Zona Norte, I prayed that the people would see that there is freedom in Jesus and that they would crave that freedom and peace, that they would crave the Holy Spirit. One lady didn't want to leave us. She kept singing and singing, ignoring the prodding of her group to get going. She was craving the presence of God. The homeless man we were talking to had so much to say, I could tell all he needed was someone to listen to. I believe most of these people just need to be heard, to be cared about. Another man with a guitar watched from the distance. When we invited him to come over and play with us, he refused. He seemed to have been crying. A few of us went over and began to talk with him, he apparently had left the church and our singing moved him to return. 

As I took all of this in, I knew this is what the Kingdom of God looks like. Groups of people, rich and poor, from every social status, from every job description, every background, People being listened to, cared for, heard. Craving the presence of Jesus.God is so good, and his love is moving even in those dark, smelly streets.