A Spirit Not Of Fear

I’ve been silent for way too long. My fingers have been itching, DYING to type out everything that has been on my heart and in my mind. Yet it’s as though each time I sit down to type, there’s a stopper wedged in the door of my mind. Everything that God has led me through this summer, everywhere that he has taken me, the experiences I’ve had; it’s too MUCH. I can hold it in my heart and in my head, and it’s filling me nearly to bursting, but I can’t squeeze it out into typing. The words won’t come, and it’s driving me to distraction, because I want them to come so badly.

Yet God is bigger than my words. He’s bigger than my summer. And the awe that has humbled my heart because of the glory that I have seen this summer is just a taste of the utter brokenness that my Father wants for me. As I served the broken this summer, I was learning how to be broken myself. As I split rails, cleaned bathrooms, wacked weeds and renewed old pathways while working at camp, I was humbled immensely by how present God was in the most dirty, difficult tasks. His glory spilled over in every blister, dirt stain, and moment of pure exhaustion as we surrendered ourselves to being poured out by Him.

As I walked the streets of our nation’s capital this summer, I looked into the eyes of so many people who were desperately in need. I saw men and women who were sleeping in the sidewalks and starving on the staircases of the monuments, some out of true need and others by pure complacency and personal choice. Still other people walked past in business suits, protected by the shoes on their feet and the clothes on their backs, yet inwardly, thirsting to death. I ate with the homeless and was given a glimpse into their hearts, their desperate need for love spilling over in every encounter. I played with children in a Boys and Girls Club - children who had parents with jobs, shoes for their feet, homes to go to - and I saw the same desperate need flooding their hearts. Each man, woman, and child had a story; they all had joys, fears, and needs. And though each need, story and situation was different, in every face I looked into, I saw the same thing. It was Jesus.

"Then the righteous will answer him, 'Lord, when did we see you hungry and feed you, or thirsty and give you something to drink? When did we see you a stranger and invite you in, or needing clothes and clothe you? When did we see you sick or in prison and go to visit you?'
"The King will reply, 'I tell you the truth, whatever you did for one of the least of these brothers of mine, you did for me.'”
- Matthew 25:37-40

From the other side of the nation to practically my own doorstep, I have been confronted by Jesus everywhere I turn. Because need is everywhere. In the homeless and in the working, in the adult and the child, in the believer and in the unbeliever, need is overflowing. Their physical, emotional, and spiritual needs are all different, but the ultimate need is the same:

It’s love. It’s compassion; it’s the willingness to seek out their needs and the desire to meet them, not out of obligation, but out of the extreme love that Jesus showed us. Because when we are filled with His love, it overflows.

It’s called being broken. It’s called being a jar of clay—fragile on the outside, but filled with a power that cannot be reckoned with. It’s the power to reach the hearts of the world, to be a beaming light in shadowed places, to overcome the things that this world says is too painful, too debilitating, too tangible or intangible for us to face. To not just face those things, but to do battle with them; to go THROUGH the enemy ranks and to wage war against the gates of Hell which cannot stand against us! It’s what we do when we choose to love. Because when His love captures us, captures us to overflowing, it pours into the hearts of the world to set them free.

I’ll follow You into the homes of the broken,
I’ll follow You into the world.
Oh, I’ll meet the needs of the poor and the needy,
God, I’ll follow You into the world.