When I got home Saturday night and heard what was going on in this beautiful community of Kalamazoo, my heart stopped. A range of emotions flooded me–sadness, anxiety, fear. And then I prayed that God would make His presence known in this man’s heart. Because someone’s world must have been in a raging downward spiral and deeply broken beyond recognition to do something so selfish and violent.
I believe that our God is a God who can do the impossible. A God who answers when we pray although it may not look like what we had asked for. But praying is only one side of the equation. He asks us to listen. He asks us to love. Even when it’s awkward and uncomfortable or doesn’t seem fair, He asks us to love. A prayer without love and forgiveness is empty. We are here on this Earth to be loved by Him and to love one another. I believe that when we love and see people the way that God intended, He can be using us to answer somebody else’s prayers.
The evening before my birthday, I had the pleasure of sharing food and hot chocolate with two homeless people downtown. I still sometimes hesitate to stop but have been welcoming the interruptions as my new norm. They invited me into their temporary home that cold evening–a comforter that sprawled on the ground between them. I plopped down and rested my back against the building. We laughed at mishaps together. We shared tales of the brokenness in this world. I watched as they asked people passing by for change. I listened to stories of discouragement and hopelessness. Thanks to fundraising on the streets in college, I could relate in the tiniest way of what it’s like to feel invisible. And what it’s like to simply want an acknowledgement that I existed, even if somebody couldn’t give financially. I also noticed that when there’s no compassion and no understanding, people tend to make general assumptions and dehumanize one another. On the streets, it goes both ways.
…those rich people who have so much and don’t even give us the time of day.
…those poor people who only want our money and won’t stop asking.
Do you know what happens when you assume?
That evening, I didn’t want to leave my new friends with just hot chocolate and conversations. It’s only a small portion of what His love looks like. Sometimes that’s enough, but the selfish part of me wanted to see God move even more in their lives. And after listening to those stories, I wanted to depart with a sense of hope. I asked to pray for them. We all got up and embraced one another, forming a small circle. I invited His presence and His unending love in and to fill the places of brokenness. I didn’t even finish when they jumped back, begging me to stop before they started crying. Now this is our God–one who sees people exactly where they’re at and overwhelms them with His love.
Sometimes, loving is literally praying and inviting Him into spaces where we can’t do it ourselves. My heart is heavy for this community and the people affected from the darkness, and God knows we need as many prayers for His supernatural peace to blanket our sorrows and fears. Yet sometimes the act of love is giving something tangible…or a simple acknowledgment…or a hug…or a smile…or a word of encouragement. Everybody has something to give. Some way to love. Whether it’s science or Scripture, I heard a little saying that where there is light, there is no darkness. A world that radically exemplifies His love is a world that could prevent evil things from happening. And whatever that action looks like, I know that sometimes I need to stop praying, listen, and just love.
