Who Am I That I May Touch Your Soul?

 

I am, by pure definition, a bastard.  I am the son of an unwed mother in the South Bronx, whose father was killed in Vietnam when I was seven months old.  I grew up in both hard-scrabble, burned-out neighborhoods, replete with gangs, and in peaceful areas with working-class folks just trying to make it from paycheck to paycheck.  I am a Black Puerto Rican male in a society whose Fortune 500 company CEO’s, politicians, media stars, comic book characters, Supreme Court Justices and history book heroes generally do not look like me.  When I put on a cape and uniform and look in the mirror, I still don’t look like Superman.

So who am I that I may touch your soul?  Who am I that I dare to speak to the masses, providing positive impact on communities, families, school districts and corporate bottom lines?  Who am I that I might connect those who call I Am by different names?  Or who don’t call Him at all?  Who am I that I Am would stoop so low to look at me?  Who hears me when I call Him?  Who gives me visions of my purpose and my impact on this world?

<< It comes to me…. >>

Who was Moses?  He trembled in fear when God called him to lead his people.  He was so convinced of his inability to speak in public, and of his ability to do what God asked, that he begged I Am that his brother Aaron be there to help him.  Did he know then of his start in life, drifting in that basket on the river?  Was that the cause of his fear?  Of his sense of unworthiness?

Who was Joseph that he should one day govern Egypt?  The youngest son with eleven older brothers, who lived in an era when the order of birth meant everything?  Though his father favored him, did that keep his brothers from throwing him in the cistern?  Though God gave him dreams of his family bowing before him, did those dreams comfort him when he was sold into slavery by his own flesh and blood?  Or when he spent those long, dreary nights in jail because of the false accusations of a spurned woman?  How slowly did the bells toll for him in that dungeon?  Did he know, on those dark nights, knowing where he came from, how he would one day save thousands from starvation?

Who was Elisha that he dared to ask Elijah for a double portion of his Spirit and God-gifted power?  Who was he that he should see the wind, and the horses and chariots of fire?  Or that he should take up Elijah’s robe, and receive exactly what he asked for?  And walk the Earth with kings trembling before him?

Who am I that I may touch your soul?  That I may hear the stories of my family’s past, and take pride?  That I may know the history of my people, and take heart?  That I may, by God’s great gift, see the connections between us that others do not?  That I may solidify and make real those connections and impact the world?

I am Steven.  Crowned One.  By definition a bastard, but by faith a royal being.  Though I began this life on the streets of the South Bronx, I am part of The Body that stretches across space, time and understanding.   I may touch your soul, as you may touch mine.

I am Steven.  Who are you?

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1 Response to "Who Am I That I May Touch Your Soul?"

  • Vanessa L. Clark says:

    Steven, how moving. Such emotion and truth in it’s purest form that at this moment, I am SPEECHLESS! My prayer is that You so get to TOUCH the many Souls of The Universe with All of Your GOD given BRILLIANCE! SIMPLY BEAUTIFUL YOU ARE!
    PEACE PRAYERS & BLESSINGS TO YOU!

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