Throughout this project, that's something that I have been reminded of time and time again. No matter how much blood, sweat and tears that I put out, it is only through the work of God that a life is changed.
I am not God. Christina is not God. Aaron, Caleb, and the rest of the team are not God either. We can pour out our hearts to these people, empty our wallets buying them food, and spend our days listening to the cries of their heart. But we can do nothing. We are empty. We are only vessels that can be used by God for his glory. We are the hands and feet of Christ but we are still only human.
Tonight, as I drove back home from the drop-in, my heart wept. My eyes were dry but sobs were racking my heart. The pain was physical but it wouldn't stop. It wasn't that anything horrible happened but I was reminded of the hard life that my new friends live. I was reminded of the hurt that defines "normal" in their lives.
The meth-marks, whiskey-breath, pot-glazed smiles and swearing does not intimidate me. That stage is long over. It's the looks in their eyes that pierce my soul. The haunting looks of empty eyes seeking something to fill the glaring gap. The eyes that are tired of seeing so much sin and corruption. The lost gaze of someone looking to find home.
It's hard for me to see my friends without Jesus. Honestly, He's the only answer to all of their problems. He's the only one who can fix the shattered lives and put a balm on their blistered souls. His arms are the only ones where they will find shelter and refuge. It is only through Him that they can find the forgiveness and acceptance that they seek so desperately.
I wish there was a way that I could rewind time like a VHS. I wish I could mix lives like DJ's do records and make up a completely new song. I would cut away the pain, the hurt, the angst. In the darkest moments I would show them Jesus offering them a way out. He's always been there. They just haven't noticed him.
At this moment, all I can do is keep loving them until my last breath. I can keep caring, not letting my heart be overwhelmed, but keep drawing closer to Jesus so I can reflect his love to them. I don't want to be just "another Christian" in their life. Who wants to be spoken of with the contempt that reveals hurt and anger from the past? I want to be different. I want to be the one who cared. The one who kept on loving and the one who helped bring them running into Christ's arms of love.
The next time you see someone--it doesn't have to be a homeless person--look at them. Really look. Look at their eyes. See the pain in their souls. Start caring. Start being Jesus to them. Cast away the apathy, look past the tough facades, and please, love them.
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perfectly timed and thank you.