Though we’re strangers, still I love you
I love you more than your mask
And you know you have to trust this to be true
And I know that’s much to ask
But lay down your fears, come and join this feast
He has called us here, you and me
[CHORUS:]
And may peace rain down from Heaven
Like little pieces of the sky
Little keepers of the promise
Falling on these souls
This drought has dried
In His Blood and in His Body
In the Bread and in this Wine
Peace to you
Peace of Christ to you
And though I love you, still we’re strangers
Prisoners in these lonely hearts
And though our blindness separates us
Still His light shines in the dark
And His outstretched arms are still strong enough to reach
Behind these prison bars to set us free
[CHORUS:]
[CHORUS:]
Peace to you
Peace of Christ to you
Dear God, how do I best communicate that someone who is ashamed of themselves is safe in my presence? Better still, how do I best communicate to them that they are safe in your presence?
I have always loved how this song starts: “Though we’re strangers still I love you, I love you more than your mask.” Just the acknowledgment that we know there’s a mask there (we all have one on), and it’s okay.
Laity Lodge is my favorite place on earth. What makes it so special? Is it that it is a lovely setting in the beautiful Texas Hill Country? Is it the great food or terrific Bible teaching at the retreats? That’s all great, but there is something that Howard Butt, Jr., established there over fifty years ago that is still true today. It is a safe place. It is a place where people who feel awful or even unsure about themselves and their sin before you and everyone else and turn it into a feeling of being loved and accepted.
Father, help me to 1.) feel safe in your presence, and 2.) help others to feel your love, compassion and “safeness.” Your outstretched arms are still strong enough to reach behind our prison bars to set us free.
Emails to God 