|1.||to speak or write in favor of; support or urge by argument; recommend publicly: He advocated higher salaries for teachers.|
|2.||a person who speaks or writes in support or defense of a person, cause, etc. (usually fol. by of): an advocate of peace.|
|3.||a person who pleads for or in behalf of another; intercessor.|
|4.||a person who pleads the cause of another in a court of law|
I turned to the concordance in my trusty old KJV from my days when I was single and so hopeful of not staying that way that I had just my first name engraved on the front cover. Advocate looked like this:
Advocate (Christ) of the Church, 1 John 2:1.
I didn’t expect it to be capitalized and I expected more than one scripture reference.
I’m getting accustomed to waking in the night. The REM pattern doesn’t last as long as it used to. Maybe there’s something on my mind. Maybe I’m escaping from one of my more action packed dreams. I can usually re-position and go back to sleep but not this morning. 4:11am, and it’s eyes open at which point my brain starts in full tilt with this or that worry which creates a drama and there you go. Here I am. I’m up. Did I grind the coffee beans before I went to bed or do I have to wrap the grinder in a towel in the bathroom with the door closed so I don’t wake up Honey? I use the towel.
So I put down some of the drama in an email to myself since Word is not yet installed in the new machine. In my drama, I talked of rescue, support, sympathy, healing, and forgiveness. That off my mind, I was stuck with a groggy coffee buzz. Honey took a look at the clock and my unwashed self and asked if I was going to church. Not today. I could, but no. Need some quiet time and a slow shower.
Would someone invent a way to write things down in the shower? That’s where the shopping list cries out. The word Advocate spoke. Look me up, it said. Stop worrying.
A 101 year old lady on her way to card club, pushing her walker, was mugged in her apartment building. She may have a lawyer now but she needed an advocate to step in when he was punching her in the face. A 72 year old grandmother working the counter at a sandwich shop was told to empty the cash drawer. She tossed the ones to the floor and when the thief bent to retrieve them, she pulled her advocate off the shelf behind her, a souvenir Yankee bat, and let him have it.
Sometimes we have no one in our corner and have to fend for ourselves at the point of injury, physical or emotional. We know as Christians that Jesus will put the bandaid on our booboo and kiss it if we ask. We have to ask. When we do, He will not let us down or put us off. He’ll listen to even the smallest infractions and lead us to a place of forgiveness and healing. But we have to ask. If we don’t, we deal alone and lonely. I thought I’d forgotten, I thought I’d forgiven, but there it was at 4:11am, demanding attention.
Throughout our lives and into eternity, He’s our defense attorney, and finally, the Advocate Who will be there when we stand before God. “She’s mine, Dad. She accepted the payment on the cross. We plead not guilty.”