seeing the face of Christ...
today, i saw the face of Christ. Not through Christian art. Not through some mystical experience. But through the tears of a 13 yr. old girl, fearing for her life and for her families well-being after another violent outburst from her uncle.
Her fears were justified, as was the emergency lockdown that resulted when this occurance stretched from the home to the school grounds, where 5 children again saw the effects of their lives spinning out of control.
Most disturbed was this eighth grade girl, unconsolable, and desperately wanting to leave the school building, against the wishes of everyone involved. I felt moved by the Spirit to offer to pray for her, and the Spirit worked in ways far beyond my words, imparting some peace amidst the terror.
And the Spirit also shaped my perspective; through prayer, through sharing my similar story with this girl, through listening to her fears, hurt, and anger, I was able to see Christ in this suffering, hurting child. In the midst of this conversation, a school lunch became communion, the secretary's office became the presence of God, because of the Spirit. And I received comfort, as it overflowed to some degree to this child.
Lord Jesus, why must she return to this horror? Why is the peace you offer so temporary? Why do I go home to safety and comfort, while this family huddles in fear? And what if Jesus only offered prayers, but then retreated to the safety of his father's home?
While there is always a sense of fulfillment received from helping the hurting in Jesus' name, it leads to the most powerful and powerless prayer known to man: "Come, Lord Jesus." May we see him less in the hurting, and more in the restored. Amen
today, i saw the face of Christ. Not through Christian art. Not through some mystical experience. But through the tears of a 13 yr. old girl, fearing for her life and for her families well-being after another violent outburst from her uncle.
Her fears were justified, as was the emergency lockdown that resulted when this occurance stretched from the home to the school grounds, where 5 children again saw the effects of their lives spinning out of control.
Most disturbed was this eighth grade girl, unconsolable, and desperately wanting to leave the school building, against the wishes of everyone involved. I felt moved by the Spirit to offer to pray for her, and the Spirit worked in ways far beyond my words, imparting some peace amidst the terror.
And the Spirit also shaped my perspective; through prayer, through sharing my similar story with this girl, through listening to her fears, hurt, and anger, I was able to see Christ in this suffering, hurting child. In the midst of this conversation, a school lunch became communion, the secretary's office became the presence of God, because of the Spirit. And I received comfort, as it overflowed to some degree to this child.
Lord Jesus, why must she return to this horror? Why is the peace you offer so temporary? Why do I go home to safety and comfort, while this family huddles in fear? And what if Jesus only offered prayers, but then retreated to the safety of his father's home?
While there is always a sense of fulfillment received from helping the hurting in Jesus' name, it leads to the most powerful and powerless prayer known to man: "Come, Lord Jesus." May we see him less in the hurting, and more in the restored. Amen
posted by Kevin at 8:20 PM
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