On Monday I encountered some men that changed my life.
Every Monday at the Costa Rica base we have what we call Discipleship Monday, a day off of scheduled ministry to learn about a specified aspect of the Lord. Someone will come and speak on the topic, we read what the Bible says about it, and we are challenged with reflective questions. In the afternoon, we take what we have learned and practice putting it into action.
This Monday’s topic was healing. After a morning of meditating on and wrestling with (lots of wrestling with) the Lord’s compassion for the sick and the afflicted, my team and one other team hopped on a bus into the city to live out the calling to be like Jesus, our only expectation being that the Lord would show up in some kind of way. Before heading out, we asked the Lord specifically to let us have His heart that afternoon, because we know that true healing only comes from a heart led by compassion; “if I have not love, I am nothing.”
As we waited at the bus stop, we all prayed in silence and asked the Lord if He had any specific person or location in mind for us to go and minister. When the bus arrived, I asked my best friend Paige if she felt like she received any guidance. With uncharacteristic confidence, she responded, “The Lord didn’t give me a specific person or place or anything like that, but He told me that whenever we get there, there are going to be people that will really want to talk to us.”
We headed to a park, hoping that we would find plenty of potential, but when we arrived at our destination, it was pouring rain. A little discouraging, but since we were already there and we paid for the bus fee, we approached an amphitheater/awning structure in the middle of the town square, where a few homeless men and their dog lay.
“Well, we could just pray for them,” I suggested. So, five of us sat in a circle with them, and through very broken communication, learned about their lifestyle and their struggle.
These two men tag-teamed the story, sharing their experiences as though it had been a very long time since anyone had asked them anything about themselves. I could tell that they were especially confounded by the interest that these young white women genuinely took in listening to what they were communicating. Throughout the conversation, one of the men and I kept making deep eye contact that sent shivers down my back. I felt the Lord’s presence very tangibly.
They weren’t trying to evoke sympathy. They weren’t asking for money. They weren’t going on about their pitiful backgrounds and all of the ways the world has wronged them. They were just being very honest.
“This is our dog. She guards us while we sleep. The police are always there watching us. They’re pretty much the only ones who pay us any attention, though. We are treated as trash by everyone.”
When I heard this, I looked the two men that were sitting in front of me in the eyes and said something along the lines of, “Jesus sees you.”
One of the men began weeping when I said this. Through his tears he said, “I know Jesus sees me. I know. I know He is good. But this,” he held up a bottle, “this makes it very hard.”
“He wants to free you from that,” I told him.
“I know He does. I know He can. It’s just very hard.”
“Can we pray for you?” we asked. He nodded.
I am not sure if I have ever prayed with more passion or with more anger at satan and his schemes. To be honest, I can’t remember a word of what came out of my mouth. I was overwhelmed with the Father’s heart for them, and I was desperate to see their chains broken. I felt the Lord speaking words over them,
I see you. You were created with purpose. You were created as an overflow of the love that I had for you before you were created. I am here with you under this awning, I always have been.
In the middle of the prayer, one of the men cut us off and thanked us. I don’t know why he cut us off, but I sensed that he wasn’t feeling worthy. Perhaps it made him uncomfortable that we cared that much or cried out to God with that much love. I don’t know. But we stopped praying. After they said their thank you’s, we walked a little distance away. I felt that my burden to pray for their deliverance hadn’t been lifted yet, and I could tell that Paige felt the same. I approached her and asked if she would keep praying with me.
While we prayed we were sobbing and we didn’t even need to explain ourselves to each other. We were heartbroken for the state of these men. We were frustrated, not at them, but at everything that had brought them to this point. These men were battling spirit with flesh, and the flesh was winning. Jesus’s compassion was welling inside of us.
I wish I could say that after the prayer, my burden was lifted and my faith was restored. But, you guessed it, it left me hungrier for righteousness than I was before. And for Paige, I have honestly never seen her more grieved, and that feeling has remained ever since.
Listen, I don’t want this blog to be a “Two White Girls Meet Homeless Men and are Changed by the Revelation of Bad Things in the World” kind of thing. Because that’s not what this is. It is just a testimony of us asking the Father to let us feel what He feels about people, and Him completely breaking our hearts. His love hurts. But it is only this kind of love that can move the mountains that He said we would move. Only His love flowing through us —not our human sympathies or deepest condolences or well-intentioned efforts— can truly bring healing.
The Love that I felt coming out of me yesterday is what I am choosing to surrender my entire life to. I refuse to let apathy and selfishness and a calloused heart blind me from the intense yearning that the Father has to connect with the lost in the world. We are His chosen vessels on this planet, and if I am not opening my heart to feel what He feels, how can I possibly open my body to do the things that He does? First, our desires must line-up with His, and then His will can be performed. But we must know that when we pray that He give us His emotions we are accepting a grief deeper than any earthly pain. Feeling this pain, this compassion, is necessary to do any work that can be pleasing to the Lord. This compassion is a necessary ingredient to every miraculous work of healing. And while this pain is a burden indeed, you will never feel closer to the Father’s heart than when you are taking compassion on His children, because that is His heart.
If you love the Lord and you want to see the “greater things” He has prepared for us, ask Him to break your heart for something much greater than yourself. Let Him take your selfish desire and your personal agenda and your dignity, and surrender your heart to be broken. I promise, He will do it. I have tasted it, and I now crave much more because nothing is more fulfilling than being of one Spirit with my good Father.
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Month 2/9 is almost done! Like everyone said it would, it has gone by so fast. Ministry is better than ever and the relationships I have built with the children, my host, and my squad feel like family bonds.
This month, I have really been focusing on developing my intimacy with the Lord and being still (which —if you know me— is not my natural state). He is meeting me where I am.
Prayer Requests:
-That the Lord would open the eyes of my squad, that we may seize every opportunity we have left in Costa Rica to share His Love and see Kingdom come
-For team unity and love on good and bad days
-For me to have energy and presentness to invest in and encourage those around me
If you’re reading this, I love you.
