Authentic Love

My sweet Jesus....Lover, Warrior, Protector, Creator of Beauty, Savior....
I find myself curious as to the color of your eyes and the way they would reflect when met with mine.  I wonder what the tips of your fingers felt like as they brushed the hair away from a child's eyes...as you erased their tears. Was it magnetic, like an electric impulse coursing through your veins?  Or was it an overwhelming surge of love and passion blended with trust and safety?
Precious Jesus, I am angry with your followers.  I am saddened and outraged by their continuous ability to demean, discourage, and destroy their brethren...the innocent, the widows, the poor, the "least of these"....  Were we not created to edify and praise?  Were we not born into hope and justice?  Were we not meant for rescue?
We have not loved you or your people with our whole hearts.  We have betrayed you.
Multitudes of people look at your representatives and shake their head in despair....who would want to follow a Jesus, a Lord, who initiates hate and prejudice?
How do I tell the victimized that not all Christians reproduce evil and claim righteousness.  Not all Christians segregate and stamp your name upon it.
Circumnavigate this world and you shall find hosts of tribes and affiliations who have had your cross slapped upon their faces like a branding iron.  No love, no compassion, no mercy, no grace.  Just forced, fearful, vengeful words of an unknown, unfriendly, and uncaring deity who screams, "REPENT OR PERISH" from a great precipice in the sky.
I feel like turning tables in mega-churches, on street corners, in Christian retail stores, during alter calls and communion.  Let the misrepresentation cease.
Beautiful Jesus...if the persecuted could but see your eyes, swim in the deep hues of longing and forgiveness and know that pure, authentic love is waiting.  If they could but feel the brush of your fingertips upon their skin...and breathe you in.  Maybe then they would know.