Some days I end the night with a heavy weight resting on me, knowing that I can't save the universe. That I can't even start. It bothers me and it irritates me and occasionally motivates me to action. But what bothers me the most is that most of the time, I just don't think about all of the broken people. I don't hurt for them much and I try my best not to think about it.
Tonight we went on a little hike down to a nearby town to deliver gifts to the family of an incracarated father through the Angel Tree program.
I hurt. They lived in a little trailer in the middle of nothing. Everything was run down and tired-looking, even their little white Christmas tree with an angel on top who was heavier than the whole tree.
There were four boys there with sad solemn faces who didn't talk a whole lot. And a mom who did talk a whole lot. And I got the feeling she appreciated the hand-out.
I didn't do a good job at listening to the Holy Spirit. I should have said more than I did. And now I'm thinking back, seeing all of the opportunities I missed to just say what I believe is the only way to really change their circumstances. They needed to know about Jesus. I think they wanted to know about Jesus. And I think they will find more out. But I wish I'd just said more.
I hope that they come to church for Christmas like we invited them to. I hope that I can find a church that is close enough for them to want to go to.
But i hope that next time, I say more than I did.
Because the world is so dark and broken and tired, like their little house. And the light that we have should be brighter than just some presents at Christmas.
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