Spirit's Pavilion 5

As their shepherd made the all call for everyone to link up, their sign of unity together, the circle grew quiet for the closing words. In the quieting, an unusual sound was heard.

One of the young men was standing in the circle, weeping audibly.

There is this amazing, seemingly life and death push/pull that resides during your student years. And beyond. One might call it the "stand out/blend in" matrix. Student relating can be brutal. Adult relating can be brutal. When you're in, you're in. Phewwww. Almost eternal sigh of relief. And when you're out, groan, you're out. Almost hellish sigh of soul pain. You so badly want to stand out enough that your person is deemed worth being in tier one. You must start with the appropriate paraphernalia. Each era has its own. Each group in each era has its own. Izod and Ocean Pacific. Nike and New American Standard. And it almost seems as though the matrix gods at the top of tier 1 have to converge perfectly for you to be noticed. So with your OP shirt on, Nike sneaks laced or NASB version appropriately procured, if and when the tier 1 matrix opens up to let you in, one might collapse in a heap of relief. It's that big. Once in, the newly welcomed tier 1 member does everything possible to enjoy the new status while desperately trying to blend in and not unnecessarily stand out in any kind of awkward or weird way fearing a matrix shift. Days later, you can miss school because of a stomach bug or a pandemic and in missing simply one or two days inside jokes around the lunch table, the matrix swallows you up upon your seeming, innocent return to the upper tier and you're spit out. Out.

The "stand out/blend in" matrix gets us somewhere. It gets us tired. Soul tired.

Why was the "stand out/blend in" matrix in play that night at Spirit's Pavilion? A male student weeping doesn't bode well in the matrix. You're standing out for all the wrong reasons. Of all the characteristics that can pass through the matrix membrane and keep you in good standing, it's almost like there's one that stands all by itself as the kamikaze display. A guy crying. And because we all know this matrix so well and that this would NEVER happen, there was an almost uncontrollable curiosity in the night air.

The quiet got quieter. Everyone knew it wasn't a "yellow jacket sting" or "someone made fun of me" cry. Somehow, everyone knew it was holy. Somehow they knew. And the quiet slowed. And they were together in the holy quiet with the one crying.

Don't rush reader. Slow with them.

"I need you Jesus.",

he muffled out through his cried tears.

There was an unheard gasp around the masked circle.

Something shifted.

The young student hadn't just declared that he needed Jesus. He had actually told Jesus that He needed Him in front of the matrix. And the matrix started crumbling. Stuff that is usually embedded firmly in the background as being really, really important to maintain at all costs was being shed and washed in one young man's tears.

He continued weeping with every eye turned toward him. He didn't look away. He kept weeping and the quiet kept being washed in tears.

Everyone knew it. Intrinsically it is branded into us. You don't do this. Guys don't do this. You can't do this and maintain your standing in the matrix. Death to the damned matrix. That's what cracked open as the tears dropped to the cement through his mask.

There's more.