I won't stand by
and watch a world full of darkness spiral into despair
with hands reaching out for rescue
when I know the One who shines into the hearts of men and breaks the power of darkness.
I won't stand by
as the enemy claims his victims one by one
feeding lies into the minds of those who have never been told the truth
when I have personally experienced the saving power of Jesus Christ.
I won't stand by
and let a nation stumble around as a hopeless generation
the blind leading the blind into a pit of confusion
when I know the one who can remove the scales from their eyes.
I won't stand by
as children are abandoned by their parents,
left on the street to defend for themselves
when I know the One who is the defender and father of the orphan.
I won't stand by
and let souls be swept into Hell for all eternity
forever separated from the One who gave His Son to save them
when He has given me a mouth to boldly proclaim the mystery of the gospel.
We are the hands and feet of Jesus.
These are some scrambled thoughts that I have this afternoon. My heart is broken for this world in extraordinary ways today. I spent the evening yesterday at our city drop in center for youth, where I have been volunteering for past several months. God is doing some incredible things through this organization, and the more time I spend there, the more time I am in awe of the vast number of broken and hurting youth in this city who are in need of a message of hope and healing!
Partnering with the Holy Spirit and a sister in Christ yesterday, I was privileged to partake in the work of God and bring a glimmer of hope to a very hurt and angry little boy. A boy who is a victim of the world's messed up system, a product of a broken marriage.... who wants nothing more than for his mommy and his daddy to be together so he can have a "normal life"...who believes that it was his fault that this happened, and believes the lie that he is a "total waste of space." (His own words, not mine).
It all started when a good friend of mine who was also there last evening ran into this boy about half an hour earlier... the boy told her about how he was extremely depressed. She tried to tell him about Jesus, but he shut down and refused to listen. When she came and told me about this, I was determined to find him and share my own story with him. My friend and I walked outside and spent some time praying for God to bring this boy to us, for God to break down the walls around his heart, and let us share the gospel with him.
We walked down the street to a group of 4 or 5 boys sitting on a bench. At this point I had no clue that one of them was the boy I had just prayed for. I asked them each their name, and as I came to the boy on the far right who was secluded from the others, he told me with a smirk on his face that his name was "Hosé", to which I replied in a joking manner "No it isn't!! You're lying to me! What's your real name!" The guys beside him shouted "His name is _____!", but I still hadn't clued in that this was the boy I had just petitioned to God about. I was instantly drawn to his mischievous smile, round innocent face, and his Ninja Turtle sweater.
I started asking him questions about his life, to which he was giving me short and abrupt answers. When my friend (who had first talked to him earlier) said "Why don't you tell her about the depression. I know she will understand because she has a story just like it!" I clued in that this was "the boy." Wow, the Holy Spirit was moving already! Talk about an answer to prayer!
He continued to be cold and distant and distracted by everything around him. But when I asked him if he would hear about my story of how God rescued me from my own darkness and despair, and how I met Jesus Christ and experienced Him as a Living Saviour, he started to listen with open ears and slowly began spilling to me the broken places of his heart. We continued to chat and exchange parts of our stories with one another. He began to see that he was not alone in his struggle. I, too, had been there. I knew this feeling of hopelessness, depression, and despair that he was explaining to me. The fact that I could understand him was the first glimmer of hope for him. [God uses our broken experiences to reach those who are going through the same struggles. Don't ever think that your past disqualifies you from being a beacon of light. In fact, as a jar of clay, the more cracks you have, the more the light is able to shine through].
I flipped open a bible and had Him read with me John 3:16, a familiar passage to most of you I'm sure, but to a boy who had never before heard that God loved Him, the words fell on his heart like balm to a bleeding and open wound. After we spent some time more time talking about Jesus, I asked him if I could pray for him. I sensed in my spirit that there still seemed to be things he was hiding from me. After I finished praying, I looked up and watched tears stream down his face. Through that prayer, God tore down his "tough guy" exterior. God revealed to me who I was really talking to. The Holy Spirit prompted me to ask him more questions about his home life, and he told me about how he lived with just his mom because his parents were divorced. He now had to live separated from his dad and some of his siblings who chose to live with his dad. I told him I was sorry that he had to go through this and I was very sad for him, to which he replied, "It hurts me so much." I couldn't hold back my own tears at this point. This was a child who was made in the image of God, but whose image was severely marred by the effects of sin, a child who was longing for restoration, but didn't know where to find it. He told me that he wore a mask of anger, humour, and sarcasm to hide the pain he really felt. I kept pointing him to the cross. It was all my broken heart could do to console him. All the words of consolation I had to offer him were futile in comparison to the message of Jesus' work on the cross.
As we both began to shiver in the cold, I asked him to look me straight in the eye, listen to me and never forget the words I was about to tell him. With his teary eyes on mine, I said "You, _____, are not a waste of space. That is a lie from Satan. God has a plan for your life. Jesus loves you and died for you! He wants to know you and have a relationship with you!"
I was a tangible expression of God's love to him that evening, and in a matter of minutes, his demeanour completely changed. Suddenly his eyes shone a little brighter, and I saw some relief in his tired little spirit. Our conversation ended there, and I asked him if he would take a gospel of John home with him. He smiled, thanked me, and tucked it into the pocket of his Ninja Turtle sweater, a stark reminder to me that though he spoke as one with the experiences and heartaches of an adult, he was still only a little boy. I don't know if he will ever read it, or how much he will remember about our conversation, but I can only pray that the Holy Spirit will continue to draw him to Jesus Christ and that He will send others to water the seed that was planted. I leave him in God's hands. It is God who must make the seed grow and bear fruit.
This is one story of one boy.
He is one out of hundreds of youth in this city who are in the same position.
There are thousands more like him in cities across this country.
There are millions more like him in nations all over this world.
Will you be the hands and feet of Jesus to one today?
Jesus called them to him, saying, “Let the children come to me, and do not hinder them, for to such belongs the kingdom of God."
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