And I think to myself...
What a Wonderful Broken World.
Honestly though.
I sat there, the gym was completely quiet except for the steady hum of the static coming from the speakers. The projector was all set up, and shining a picture of a lighthouse by water onto the wall. The blue mats were spread out on the floor. Soon the children would come. Mali, with her bright pink leggings and a new dance move. There would be David, all his walls, hundreds of feet up, acting like Mr. Tough Guy and he is only twelve. My little Sara who is always dirty and smells like smoke, but can never listen because "we never have food in the house and I'm so hungry." I sat there and I wanted to cry. What do I have to give these precious souls? All I have is a few hours every other Sunday, and most of them are too distracted by hunger or pain to really know if you made a difference. But I go. I go because maybe, just maybe, when I hug her anyway, even if I smell like smoke the rest of the day. Maybe, if I play basketball with him, even though we know I suck and he thinks its hilarious. Maybe, after the countless times I have to tell them to be quiet and listen during Quiet seat time, or when I have to tell them they can't have more food, when I know it could well be the only food they get that day. Maybe, just maybe, they will see the Love of Jesus in me, and maybe, they will chose to love back. And slowly, ever so slowly, we can light one dark corner of the world at a time, until the whole world is blazing. It starts fight here. Right now. With the least of these.
The world is oh such a broken place.
I work at a daycare, and I see the perfect side of families. Daddy dropping Rayne off before he goes to work. And she has her little outfit and juice bottle, and then around 4:30 mommy comes and picks her up and away she goes. And no one knows how disastrous her life at home really is. I recently started babysitting as well, evenings and weekends, for my daycare parents. I was at Rayne's house the other day, and was shocked to see what her life really is. Suddenly her behavior issues made sense. Her wild recklessness was understandable.
It's such a broken world!
Kids are going hungry. They are being neglected, no, not in china, It's happening in your neighbors house.
And all I needed to do, was be brave enough to care about people, and look deeper, beyond the surface, beyond what their words are saying, and look at what their heart is screaming. There are hurting people in your church. If you don't think so I would encourage you to start getting to know the people in your church. Because the reality is, it is a broken world. And just because they come to church does NOT mean they are not a broken mess inside, holding it together by a bobby pin.
Maybe you are the broken person, going to church, not getting what you need, feeling like you are falling through the cracks, and only being judged. I've been there, I can relate. If that is you, I'm sorry. I'm sorry church has disintegrated to the place where our most vulnerable are left to fend for themselves.
For the rest of you, will you help me in creating soul care, community, and creating a world we could call wonderful? The world will always be broken as long as "our adversary, the devil, walks around like a roaring lion, looking to kill." But we can create a haven, where the broken and weary can come and be safe. (And in all reality, we are all broken, and we become weary from time to time, so this shouldn't be news.) Where children are fed, and mommy's and daddy's don't fight. Wanna help me?
*Names were changed for privacy and stuff
I sat there, the gym was completely quiet except for the steady hum of the static coming from the speakers. The projector was all set up, and shining a picture of a lighthouse by water onto the wall. The blue mats were spread out on the floor. Soon the children would come. Mali, with her bright pink leggings and a new dance move. There would be David, all his walls, hundreds of feet up, acting like Mr. Tough Guy and he is only twelve. My little Sara who is always dirty and smells like smoke, but can never listen because "we never have food in the house and I'm so hungry." I sat there and I wanted to cry. What do I have to give these precious souls? All I have is a few hours every other Sunday, and most of them are too distracted by hunger or pain to really know if you made a difference. But I go. I go because maybe, just maybe, when I hug her anyway, even if I smell like smoke the rest of the day. Maybe, if I play basketball with him, even though we know I suck and he thinks its hilarious. Maybe, after the countless times I have to tell them to be quiet and listen during Quiet seat time, or when I have to tell them they can't have more food, when I know it could well be the only food they get that day. Maybe, just maybe, they will see the Love of Jesus in me, and maybe, they will chose to love back. And slowly, ever so slowly, we can light one dark corner of the world at a time, until the whole world is blazing. It starts fight here. Right now. With the least of these.
The world is oh such a broken place.
I work at a daycare, and I see the perfect side of families. Daddy dropping Rayne off before he goes to work. And she has her little outfit and juice bottle, and then around 4:30 mommy comes and picks her up and away she goes. And no one knows how disastrous her life at home really is. I recently started babysitting as well, evenings and weekends, for my daycare parents. I was at Rayne's house the other day, and was shocked to see what her life really is. Suddenly her behavior issues made sense. Her wild recklessness was understandable.
It's such a broken world!
Kids are going hungry. They are being neglected, no, not in china, It's happening in your neighbors house.
And all I needed to do, was be brave enough to care about people, and look deeper, beyond the surface, beyond what their words are saying, and look at what their heart is screaming. There are hurting people in your church. If you don't think so I would encourage you to start getting to know the people in your church. Because the reality is, it is a broken world. And just because they come to church does NOT mean they are not a broken mess inside, holding it together by a bobby pin.
Maybe you are the broken person, going to church, not getting what you need, feeling like you are falling through the cracks, and only being judged. I've been there, I can relate. If that is you, I'm sorry. I'm sorry church has disintegrated to the place where our most vulnerable are left to fend for themselves.
For the rest of you, will you help me in creating soul care, community, and creating a world we could call wonderful? The world will always be broken as long as "our adversary, the devil, walks around like a roaring lion, looking to kill." But we can create a haven, where the broken and weary can come and be safe. (And in all reality, we are all broken, and we become weary from time to time, so this shouldn't be news.) Where children are fed, and mommy's and daddy's don't fight. Wanna help me?
*Names were changed for privacy and stuff
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