Calling All History Makers
If I could put music along with my blog, I would put a sad song along with this one. That way you could tell by the song that something sad was about to come about. Don’t get me wrong, I am very happy, being here in Thailand in the presence of my squad and in the presence of my Jesus. My heart is heavy however, for those around me, or maybe it is lighter because I have left it with so many people.
Part of my heart was left at the orphanage in Kenya. It is with the 80 children who are under fed and malnourished, all longing for just the crumbs that drop from my table. My heart knows that I am just one foreigner who doesn’t understand the culture or the language. I don’t understand what goes on behind the curtains, and the money I contain will only make rough patches on their wounds that are gaping open.
Part of my heart was left with a child from the streets of Eldoret. He found me, and instead of asking me for money, simply walked with me a ways just wanting to hold my hand. My heart is still with this child who has a bottle of glue for a best friend. Glue is his survival key. Literally. He cant live on the streets without it, nor would I desire him too. Without glue, he would be labeled as an easy target for the other kids to get whatever they wanted from him. He is a beautiful child of the most High God and doesn’t even know it. He has chosen to live on the streets because that life is better for him than the life the children in the orphanage live. That life is better for him than many of the children who still live with their parents in some poor African mud hut. He still has no clue however, of the life that was meant for Him. The life His creator intended for him. The life where he was a prince instead of a thief barely getting by. That was all last month, this month I am in Thailand and my heart is only at the beginning of shattering. Shattering into millions of pieces for the 27 million human slaves that exist in the world around me. These people are robbed from their homes and carried across borders to work for their survival. Many are children that were sold by their parents so that the rest of the family could make it to live another meal. Now the children are forced into hard labor. A large majority of these 27 million human slaves are men women and children alike that are forced to sell their bodies… and then sell themselves again… and again. Night after night after night. The streets here in Thailand are filled with woman, precious brides of the Lord, that have forsaken him for other men. They will only ever see a tiniest almost invisible percentage of the money they actually earn, if even that. Far too many women here have never heard about the wonderful fulfilling love of Jesus. They await for us to give them our message.
My heart breaks for the people that were individually picked by their divine creator to be the history makers. The ones who have been waiting all their lives to be apart of something great, and haven’t yet realized that it has slapped them right in the face. They look into the past and see the great men and women who were a part of the emancipation proclamation and whose names have forever gone down in the history books. These born to be history makers look at Mother Teresa and marvel at what great deeds she did in sacrificing her own earthly pleasures for the very survival of her fellow humans.
There have been far too many history makers that have died never having made any history at all. You know why? Because they spent too much time looking at how others were changing the world, or too much time wishing they were living in a more critical time period. When all the time they should have been slapped into existence. This is now. The time of the great history makers is now. This is the critical time… and WE ARE THE HISTORY MAKERS! So let’s step out and become what we were created to be.
