Parts
I wonder, if it had been me in that hospital bed, how different would the situation have been? My unsaved family wouldn’t be praying and singing worship music by my side. How many would be praying for me? I would have a worried fiancée by my side, praying. A few people from here and there: my church, my Aunt’s church, CFC, Richville, Vorea; sure, they’d probably be praying. Maybe they’d even set up a prayer meeting for me. But would I really ever hope to have made such a difference that I’d have over six thousand Christians world-wide praying for my recovery? My resurrection?
Something like this makes one contemplate how much of an impact they’ve made. My parents don’t know the church. It’s just me. I’ve never been able to go on a mission’s trip. I’ve never been able to make a difference in that way. I never had the opportunity to run a life group or Bible study at college. I never led worship, or played on the worship team. I haven’t led such a robust and thriving life. My life is quieter. My life is different. I stay behind the scenes. I work hard, but in secret. My work is not known. I don’t try to hide my talents but mostly people just don’t take notice. I am not ashamed. I love my God with all my heart, as I will tell anyone if they ask. I help anyone that asks if it’s possible for me to. I run myself ragged trying to help others. But it’s always behind the scenes. A talk here, a listen there; A ride to church, and free lunch, company on a bad night, a phone call, a walk, a drive, advice or encouragement. I’ll be there if I can. God-willing, I’ll be there.
But I am quiet, as is my life. I love my Lord and others. I tell them of His love for me and the miracles He’s worked in my life. I tell them how it can be different for them. I invite them to meet my church family. I invite them to a different sort of life, because I know where they are. I was there once too. It was before I knew there was another way to live. It was before I gazed upon a different sort of life, different sorts of families. These families surrounded me, all of life’s problems bearing down on them, just as any other family, but theirs was filled with love. Love for God, and love for each other. I saw couples together, and they didn’t fight or cheat. I saw youth that didn’t swear or lie or drink.
For the longest time I just stood in amazement of these new sights. I felt like a child walking through the Smithsonian. But then I heard the stories; stories of their bang-ups and hang-ups before. Before what? I heard of people with violent pasts, the used and abused, the hurt and neglected, the angry, the lonely, the bitter, the bound; prisoners, addicts, murders, rapists, the forgetful and the forgotten. That was them before, yes before God reached down and took them firmly by the shoulders, shook them and said, “I’m here, and I love you. Oh, how I love you.” I’ve know and met and fellowshipped with all sorts of people, and through it God has showed me that, whether you come from a Christian family raised in the church, or if your past is something almost too terrible to speak of, His plan for you is the same. It is love. It is joy. It is peace and hope in Him. For we are saved by faith, through grace, not by works, and we are all royalty in His Kingdom. We are all His children.
I sometimes wonder why I put so much value on what others think of me. No, I’m not like David. I’m much quieter. I live behind the scenes. That is me. That is how God made me. I know in my heart that I have impacted lives, even if it’s not as noticable to others. I know it and God knows it. We are all part of the same body of Christ. We have different functions. We need each other. Not one of us is useless, or of less value than the other. We each play our part even if, sometimes, we may not be very noticable, we’re there. We’re there, and we’re pulling for Heavens shore. Someday, when I fly on up and gaze out upon His Kingdom for the first time, and see His beautiful face, I’ll hear, “Well done, good and faithful servant” too. Let’s keep running until then. Let’s keep changing and growing and loving. Let’s keep pushing and pulling and impacting.
We’re on our way home, Lord. We’re on our way.
And
I
Pray
