Native Drummers

Last week at the mall, there was a large group of native drummers. I watched them from 2 floors up in the open circular atrium. Hundreds of Christmas shoppers were watching, mesmerized by the rhythmic beat of 20 or so drums accompanied by a crowd of singers.
The pain of generations of struggling came across in their voices. Like an open festering wound, bared for all to see. The deep hurt of a once proud, but now humbled nation echoed through the mall. I felt the shame of the abuse they suffered. I sensed God’s compassion for this beaten people. For a moment in time, I felt God’s heart for them.
When I meet a native person on the street, I am tempted to react to the results of the collateral damage satan has inflicted on them. “Why can’t they just stop doing drugs, get a job and be like every other citizen?”
Lord help me to see them through your eyes. Help me to remember what I experienced in the mall.

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