broken

I've spent many long days with this boy on my mind.  He's not really a boy at all, he's a man now but, to me he will always be a bit of a boy.  My heart has ached for him in ways I never thought it would.  For the last couple years at least, he has been at the forefront of my spiritual thoughts.  I have wanted nothing but for Jesus to touch this boy, to seek him out and redeem him.  I have prayed for him, my children have prayed for him, our church has prayed for him, I had every one praying for this kid.

I hadn't given up, I've pursued him even when he's thrown up walls and shut me down faster than you could blink an eye.  In those moments, I just stopped, decided the timing wasn't right, that he wasn't ready yet.  At this very moment, he's scared, petrified.  His health hasn't been good and for quite some time.  It was put on hold, to the way side, as we stayed by our grandfather whilst he grew weaker and weaker and finally passed.  Then, another blow to our family.  But again, his health - it's been brought to our attention and while doctors continually tell him he's fine, he's not.  He is hurting and in pain and terrified.

Eight hundred fifty miles from home has done this sister in this week.  Feelings of helplessness have mugged me of blissful days here.  In the end, it hasn't been all bad.  It's given both of us the opportunity to discuss Jesus, salvation, and that dependency on God isn't something just for old people and sissies.  No, Jesus is there for everyone.  He overcame death for who?  For us. each. and. every. one. of. us.  We are all undeserving, but he did it anyway.

Fearing death and having it sit down right beside you will break one down.  It will make you receptive to things you otherwise thought were silly, nonsense even.  So, at his rock bottom, I told him all the things I've wanted to say to him.  That my heart had been breaking for him for years; that I had cried many a time hearing a sermon, thinking of him; that the time we're apart here on earth is nothing compared to the eternity we will spend in heaven.

There was so much more.  I sent tons of scripture; I explained that we've all walked in darkness at some point or another; that we are all sinners - past, present and future, but our Lord and Savior doesn't care.  He wants us to call out to Him, He allows trials in our lives to break us down, just to make us see our need for Him.

I knew something was different.  He didn't put up a fight.  He welcomed what I had to say, thanked me even and then something obvious happened.  He apologized.  Not necessary, I told him.  The Bible says not to dwell on the past, instead look toward the future.  I do hope that this is a turning point, not just a little "I'm desperate and helpless plea."  I hope it's a permanent change of heart, of mind, a new way of life.  We all stumble and I know it'll happen as it continually does for us all.  More than anything, I want this boy to know the love of God.