God, I see the poor on the street begging. Everyday, I pass by the man who squats in the corner with out forearms, holding a cup with his elbows asking for money. In the evenings as I walk the streets I see the woman sitting on the dirty street with her toddler son in her lap. He's not a normal kid with joy and energy, he lays there lifeless, sad, bored. What kind of life is that God? What am I supposed to do with that? I hate to just walk by, but what do I do? To the man with no arms, I want to give him food but I think, how would he eat it? What is easiest for him to eat? Those questions alone inhibit me from responding, thus far.
God where is the justice in that. Why was I born where I was and they are born there. I grew up with opportunity, family, love, hope. That toddler only knows the street, his mother's lap, and the sounds of thousands of footsteps walking past him everyday. What kind of life is that? Where is Your justice God? Oh, how I weep for the broken, for the hopeless, how I desperately wish they knew You. Knew Your love, peace, joy, and hope that flows so endlessly and freely from Your throne. God use me. Let me be Your hands and feet to them. Teach me how to respond, teach me to hear Your voice, over that voice that fears man saying, 'what would people think'.
Why was I given so much more? Let me not be selfish, let me pour out and give back all that You've given me. Let me not judge those who don't know You and live selfishly for themselves. Give me Your grace and wisdom, and continue to break my heart for the things that breaks Yours.