I literally grieve over three kinds of people:
- Those who can't find God, but really hunger to know Him.
- Those who were raised in some kind of church where their spirits were killed and they now live in resentment and bitterness toward the God of Life and Love.
- Those who are poor and find themselves farther behind at the end of every day.
Need. It's everywhere we turn. Much of humanity is bankrupt. I've stood in state prisons where human beings are caged as animals at a zoo. The look in their eyes is disturbing. I grieve. I've sat in cafes in Malibu and watched some of the rich at nearby tables. Their skin is leathery from surfing and their eyes are glazed from drugs. They are present in body and not home in mind. I grieve. I've visited with grown ups who were killed off in churches. They are such a decent sort who didn't survive the rigid rules of sub-doctrinal inflexibility. All of these groups appear they know they are lost. This look haunts me.
The strange, yet good news, is that in the center of this dark grief I find my motivation. The secret to where you can minister best is hidden in the areas you lament most. Being burdened over the burdened is a God-send. If there was ever a time mankind needs strong and powerful voices of hope, now is the time. Yes, I very much feel the pressure of so many in need. Yet, this is the very reason I have a most wonderful job.
You have purpose and meaning in life. A significant segment of our people are oblivious to their most exciting role. I encourage you to take note of the pressures you feel. Those burdens most likely identify your calling. If you hurt over something, I promise you there is a need for ministry in that very spot.
Blessings to you as your heartache unveils your purpose in life.
4 comments:
Just what I needed to hear today.
As a substance abuse counselor, I grieve over my clients. Their case histories read like Stephen King novels. Many of them have experienced abuse (physical, sexual, verbal, systemic, or otherwise) that I cannot imagine (nor do I want to). Granted, they have made some awful choices, but how can they make wise choices when they don't have the internal resources to do so? My profession is considered a form of rehabilitation, but what we often do is "habilitation." We are teaching them skills, disciplines, and how to live without drugs and alcohol...things they should have learned growing up. If what you say is true, then I guess that this is where I need to be and where I can minister the best. Thanks for writing this, brother.
I enjoy my present vocation, but when I read your blogs such as this one, I sometimes miss the 30 years in ministry!
I hopped over here via a link on somebody else's blog.
Wow. I like you.
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