Orphan Sunday, and I don’t want to look into her big black eyes. I don’t want to face this reality– these hundreds of millions of children abandoned and fatherless.
It hurts too deep to look, to listen to the stories of orphanages and imagine it is my daughter there, soaked in her own urine, sleeping in a crib with no mattress.
I force myself to look.
We must all force ourselves to look, to see, to know.
By some incomprehensible grace my children have warm, dry beds and full bellies and two parents who love them, and we have this same grace to give to others who do not yet see it.
You may look at my home and my car and my clothes and my checking account and think I am poor, but today I spent more money on groceries than millions of families in the world spend on food in a whole year. And besides that, I am rich, because I am His, and He is mine– and if I have Him how can I ever be poor?
I can never be poor.
And so I look. I force myself to listen and watch and allow my heart to be pulled open and the tears to flow freely and oh it hurts, this knowing but I must know. We must all know.
He did not allow His Son to be cruelly butchered so that I could sit in my comfortable living room and sip tea and ignore a dying world wallowing in its own misery of sin and horror.
God’s Word does not tell us that true religion is to dress in our nicest clothes and sit in our nice church buildings and put a few dollars in the plate on Sunday and pat ourselves on our back for our piety.
True religion is meeting those who have no hope in their place of hopelessness and introducing them to the love of a Savior. True religion is stepping out of my place of comfort and into His great big plan for me.
I don’t know really what that great big plan is.
I know that it’s different than His great big plan for you. He has lots of great big plans, one for each of us if we’ll just pay attention.
I know that I don’t have much to give, but I’m going to give it.
I don’t have a huge readership, and I don’t know how many of you that click through to my blog actually read what I say, especially when I get my ramble on and don’t include pictures of my darlings. I don’t know what kind of a difference I can make through this space, but I’m going to try to make it.
Will you? Will you go and do something to help another person in the name of Jesus? Something small? Something huge?
Maybe none of us can do something big, but we can all do something.
I stood in church last night with tears running down my face and I prayed that God would just use me to help in whatever small way I can. I don’t know what that means. But there’s a big pain-filled world out there, and babies all alone trying to navigate it, and if I can do even one thing to help I’m going to do it.