Imagine you are a 12 year old boy living on the streets. Your parents died when you were young, leaving you to navigate this cold dark world alone. You spend your days begging. Begging for food to stay alive. Begging for attention from the hundreds of people passing by. Begging to feel loved. But instead most people walk by giving you looks of disgust or roll their eyes at the sight of you begging. People see you as a thief, but in reality you are just trying to survive.
Imagine you are an 8 year old girl. Your mom died when you were young and your father left you and your sister with your grandmother so he could marry another woman. You live in a small house with dirt floors and mice running around. Your grandmother spends her days hard at work trying to earn enough money to take care of you. But when she comes home, your drunk uncle demands she give him the money instead. When she tries to say no, he begins to beat her while she cries out. You run in screaming trying to help your grandmother, but in return he begins to beat you too. Your neighbors, as well as the authorities, hear your cries, but they too fear your uncle. So they don’t step in, instead they do nothing. And you continue to get beat day after day.
Imagine you are a 9 year old little girl living in a brothel. Your mom works in the brothels in order to make money to provide for your family. Your family doesn’t have money to send you to school, so instead you help make money by doing dishes for your neighbors. They aren’t nice to you and often times abuse you verbally and physically, but you know your family needs the money. When your mom’s customers come to your room, she sends you to the roof to take care of your younger siblings and keep them occupied. The women at the brothel tell you it’s only a matter of time before you begin selling your body too. You’re scared, you feel unworthy, and the dreams you have for yourself slowly begin to fade.
Imagine you’re a 7 year old girl. You spend your days taking care of your baby brother, while begging for money and food. Your clothes are full of holes, you’re covered in dirt, and you’re hungry. You fight through the pain of your empty stomach, while trying to comfort the screaming baby in your arms. You know that if you get caught begging the police will beat you, but you know it’s a risk you have to take in order to get food for you and your baby brother to survive. You’re 7 years old and you live in constant fear.
Sadly, this is the reality for many children around the world. I could spend hours telling you heart breaking stories of children I have met or heard about on the race, but honestly this blog post would never end.
I’ve spent nights questioning God and asking Him what I can do. I’ve spent nights crying and begging God to make a way for all of those precious children. I catch myself repeatedly saying, “It’s not fair.” It’s not fair that these children don’t get a real childhood. It’s not fair that they have to live a life full of fear instead of joy. It’s not fair that they grow up not knowing their worth or knowing that they are loved. It’s just not fair.
It’s hard. It’s hard seeing children, as well as adults, suffering. It’s hard seeing them in circumstances they don’t deserve and having them consume your thoughts as you continually weep for them. There’s been times where I’ve wished I weren’t so sensitive. Times where I wish I didn’t spend days heartbroken and in tears over things I’ve seen. Times where I wish I didn’t feel so helpless. There’s been times where its easy to believe that these problems are too big for us to fix. We could easily put them on the back burner and never think of them again. But, truthfully I never want my heart to stop breaking for the things that break God’s heart. I don’t want to become numb to the brokenness all around me.
I’ve become more thankful that God breaks my heart for the things that break His. Thankful that I have the opportunity to share Christ’s love with them and tell them that they are fully known and fully loved by Him. To remind them of their worth and tell them that their circumstances don’t define them.
Frank Warren says, “It is the children the world almost breaks who grow up to save it.”
So the next time you see someone suffering or someone begging on the streets, I encourage you to acknowledge them. Whether they are young or old, don’t let fear stop you from approaching them. Speak to them and let them know that you care. Invite them to lunch. Ask them questions about their lives and make them feel loved. Smile and laugh with them. Spend time praying over them and remind them of their worth. I ask that you see them. Because they deserve to be seen.
Joyfully His,
Lizzy
