Friday, May 3, 2013

Break My Heart for What Breaks Yours

One of my favorite songs off the most recent "Casting Crowns" album is "Jesus, Friend of Sinners." The last line of that chorus says, "Jesus, friend of sinners, break my heart for what breaks yours." Today, I think I saw the smallest fraction of His heart in two precious little girls.

I was on my bike on the way back from the store, and I saw two little girls, who looked like they were maybe 5 or 6 digging through trash. They were picking up old plastic water bottles and whatever containers they could find. They will probably wash them and use them to sell something - all though what, I'm not sure.

Last year, when I was traveling by train, whenever we would stop, little children would race on to the train and grab whatever empty water, juice, or pop bottles on the floor. If you were holding a bottle that was even nearly empty, they would ask for it. These bottles would be taken home, washed and refilled with water or juice and sold to weary train travelers the next time the train came through their village.

It's hard for me not to compare these sweet children to American children. American children's lives are full of school, video games, soccer, outdoor play, and so many other simple, wonderful things. For children in Mozambique, at the youngest possible age, children are collecting empty bottles and rummaging through trash to help provide for their family in any way they can.

I wish I'd had my camera. I would have taken a picture of their precious little faces. I don't know them, their village, or their family, but my heart ached for them. My soul physically ached for these little lives that carried such a burden.

I wanted to pick them up, invite them into my home, and love all their hardship and hurt away. Even here, I have so much more than I need. Those little girls had probably never lived in a house with running water, a stove, or a refrigerator. I wanted to let them splash in the bath like little girls should do. I wanted to tell them that this is not what was meant to be. I wanted them to know that sin has ruined us. That all our brokenness and sorrow, all the hardship is because sin is a thief.

I want them to know that Jesus came to make a way to put the hurt behind us.

I pray so often that I will have his heart for the world. But, when I see that, I don't know if I can stand it. If it hurts me, how much more must it hurt the one who made them? How does Jesus look on our hurts, and hardships - our plain out stubborness and not just explode with sorrow or anger? Anger at sin. Sorrow that we choose to wallow in it when He gave his life so that we could have so much more.

Oh, Jesus. Life wasn't supposed to be like this. We were created for so much more. Lord, help us to break until we are willing to reach out to the ones You love so much. Remember us, Lord, and come to us again. Let us see Your miracles. Let us dream your dreams. Let us be changed and love our neighbor as ourselves.

Habakkuk 3:2 Lord, I have heard of your fame;
    I stand in awe of your deeds, Lord.
Repeat them in our day,
    in our time make them known;
    in wrath remember mercy.