Do not be astonished that I said to you, ‘You must be born from above.’ The wind blows where it chooses, and you hear the sound of it, but you do not know where it comes from or where it goes. So it is with everyone who is born of the Spirit.” Nicodemus said to him, “How can these things be?”
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I am so grateful for Nicodemus, the Jewish scholar-leader, who lurked on the edges of Jesus' ministry. He is so every one of us. He was sent to sniff out a troll...an invader into their space ...someone that had no sense of purpose besides throwing an idea-stink bomb into a stuffy, suppressed society pretending to be free under the Roman thumb. Jesus was an explosion but not the type that Nicodemus expected. Imagine discovering that the tiny room - the only space you have ever known for your whole life - a space where you were comfortable, protected and nurtured suddenly constricted its walls upon you and spewed you out into the gondola of a hot air balloon suspended between the heavens and the earth. In a blink, you see the expansive truth of love. I am convinced that Nicodemus caught a glimpse of that new way of being and found it impossible to be comfortable in the shattered ruins of his puny room ever again. This is the tortured and magnificent vision awaiting those who inherit the Wind.
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Dear God of the Wind, comfort your people. Still our anxious, shattered lives. Bring peace quickly and so completely that we know immediately the truth and love of it.