In the same way, the Spirit helps us in our weakness. We do not know what we ought to pray for, but the Spirit himself intercedes for us through wordless groans. And he who searches our hearts knows the mind of the Spirit, because the Spirit intercedes for God’s people in accordance with the will of God. Romans 8:26-27
“There are – million Chinese missing from the Lord’s table. There are – million Indians missing from the Lord’s table. There are —— thousand Americans missing from the Lord’s table…”*
As Pastor Van Valin read off the statistics of the amount of people from all around the world who lived without faith in the gospel, hot tears slid down my cheeks. Usually I avoid crying in general, and especially in public. In fact, I have gotten so good at holding in my tears that now when I need a good cry I can’t even squeeze them out. But these tears didn’t need any coaxing. They poured out of my eyes silently, from no effort of my own.
And they continued long after the stats were read and we stood to sing the last song. My chest began to heave as it gasped for air while the emotion wracked my body, causing my shoulders to shake softly. It has been a long time since I have been forcefully overcome with sobbing. My heart ached for people just like me, who for one reason or another do not have the hope that I have. While I cried I was not ashamed but thankful, and that’s how I knew God was speaking to me. Before I stepped into the sanctuary, before I even knew what I needed from God, He was ready to answer my unspoken, unconscious prayer.
Break my heart for what breaks yours.
Recently, when my friends have asked me if I am excited to go on the World Race, I have hesitated to answer. I haven’t been. I get uncomfortable when I think about leaving for such an extended period of time, living in cultures that I am unfamiliar with, and trying to communicate with a language I will probably only know a few words of. I imagine long hard days of manual labor coupled with nights that drag on while sleeping on hard ground. All that I have focused on is the difficulties I will undoubtedly face. I was exhausted just thinking about how exhausted I would be. I was burned out by a journey I had not even taken the first step in.
I was worn out of it already because when I imagined serving, I imagined it while relying on my own strength. Instead of seeing the difficult moments as opportunities for God to use me, stretch me, and break me so that He can rebuild me, I have seen them as burdens that will ring me out and leave me high and dry. I have been selfishly dreading the challenges this journey will present me.
I have missed the beautiful moments that are sure to come as well. I have forgotten what it was like to play with orphans, or to hold a sleeping child while his mother worshiped in a hot church in Panama. I have forgotten the joy that comes from narrating the story of the Good Samaritan in my broken Spanish while my friends scrambled to act it out. I had forgotten to ask God to break my heart for what broke His.
But in His faithfulness, He knows what I need. And He answered a prayer I didn’t even know I should ask for. In that pew last Sunday, God broke my heart as I was reminded of how many empty seats are around his dining room table. I cried for my blindness, my selfishness. I cried for His forgiveness. And I cried for joy when I remembered that the race has only just begun, and I can serve others here before I leave for there. Because God does not call me to serve to make life miserable for me, but to bring joy to all who are involved.
I am holding a stack of invitations to the King’s feast and standing in the open doorway.
*I don’t exactly remember the numbers and I don’t want to give you all a false statistic so please forgive the dashed lines
