|Pic is not mine|
As I laid in my warm bed last night listening to the powerful thunder set off all the car alarms on my street and watched the lightening burst through the night sky unable to drift off to sleep all I could do was pray. Not for me. No, I was fine...I had a house and a bed, and heat. I was crying out to God for all those who live in this city without those things. There was a flood of emotions flowing through me as I prayed; sadness, frustration, helplessness, thankfulness, disgust and of course each emotion brought with it questions of why and what and how. Why are there so many people living with so much while so many have so little? Why do people leave their countries thinking life will somehow be better here? Why are we (am I) so selfish with what I have? Why are their so many empty buildings and churches in Rome and yet people live on a piece of cardboard? What can I do? How did we as a culture (world culture) let things get this way? How do we mend all the brokenness? How do we help? How do I sleep knowing so many are spending the night soaking wet, cold and alone? Why, God? And what would you have me do?
A friend of mine was listening to this song the other day. He really liked it, but since he does not speak English he asked me to translate it for him. As I did all I wanted to do was cry.
Friends, as I wrote this I was reminded that earlier this week I asked God to break my heart, to give me compassion once again. I had felt myself becoming hardened to the plights of the people in my city, numb to the world around me. As I write I realize that God is indeed faithful to answer our (my) prayers, and because of that I sit here, heart breaking for those around me. (be careful what you ask for, from a God who promises to answer)