I've spoken on occasion about my times with the Christ next to the intracoastal. For whatever reason, God has used my times next to those waters as very significant and powerful moments in my life. So I figured the little place deserves a little more explanation. My school is about a 3 minute walk from the intracoastal, and then another maybe 20 minute walk to the beach. In between or after classes, I head off to have my daily time with God out there by the waters where there's normally very little to distract me.
The little place is actually owned by a church across the street, which had built a small outdoor amphitheater in recognition of a few successful years of crusades. A small, marble plaque inlaid into the floor commemorates it as "The Place of Decision." Sections upon sections of bright blue chairs face the intracoastal and a stage set up with a baptismal channel running in front of it. It really is quite the place to enjoy solitude and peace, sitting in an empty amphitheater where the worship of saints and souls won for Christ define its very existence. Sitting there reminds me that God not only works in the multitudes that once filled those seats, but also in the single, solitary man that sits alone in that sea of chairs.
However, when I said that the church across the street owned it, that wasn't entirely true. They used to. Now, because of monetary reasons, the property has been sold, and there are plans to build some of the tallest skyrises in downtown right on that area. Now, look, I'm no protester or activist - that's not why I'm telling you all this. I'm not going to tell you to sign a petition to save this property. The reason I bring it up is because the current structure that lies there is condemned.
And I love it.
I love the fact that I am fully appreciating something that the world cares little about anymore. I know it will all soon be over, and perhaps that increases my fondness of the time I have now with that little place. Look at me - I sound like a schoolgirl. Oh well, I love it. Every minute of it. Condemned and all.
Can you see that?
God chose us, The Condemned. He loves us, The Condemned. And He rescued us, so we are no longer The Condemned.
The little place is actually owned by a church across the street, which had built a small outdoor amphitheater in recognition of a few successful years of crusades. A small, marble plaque inlaid into the floor commemorates it as "The Place of Decision." Sections upon sections of bright blue chairs face the intracoastal and a stage set up with a baptismal channel running in front of it. It really is quite the place to enjoy solitude and peace, sitting in an empty amphitheater where the worship of saints and souls won for Christ define its very existence. Sitting there reminds me that God not only works in the multitudes that once filled those seats, but also in the single, solitary man that sits alone in that sea of chairs.
However, when I said that the church across the street owned it, that wasn't entirely true. They used to. Now, because of monetary reasons, the property has been sold, and there are plans to build some of the tallest skyrises in downtown right on that area. Now, look, I'm no protester or activist - that's not why I'm telling you all this. I'm not going to tell you to sign a petition to save this property. The reason I bring it up is because the current structure that lies there is condemned.
And I love it.
I love the fact that I am fully appreciating something that the world cares little about anymore. I know it will all soon be over, and perhaps that increases my fondness of the time I have now with that little place. Look at me - I sound like a schoolgirl. Oh well, I love it. Every minute of it. Condemned and all.
"For one will scarcely die for a righteous person—though perhaps for a good person one would dare even to die - but God shows his love for us in that while we were still sinners, Christ died for us." (Romans 5)Look, I'm not going to drag this out. Whatever pleasure I have in this little condemned piece of property is reflective of how God loves condemned humans. He loved us while we were still sinners. Not at our best, but at our worst - at our most condemned moment.
Can you see that?
God chose us, The Condemned. He loves us, The Condemned. And He rescued us, so we are no longer The Condemned.