Little Miss Bleeding Heart

When I was a little girl, I would sit in church on Missions Sunday and watch slides that missionaries brought back from Africa. My Uncle Don and Auntie Jan took their kids, one of whom was my cousin Heidi & my dear friend, to Zaire when I was a little girl. When they came home, my heart was fired up and ready to join the mission field. I looked at the pictures of the tiny babies and the wild animals and I dreamed of doing something just like they had done. I'm not sure what drew me more, the adorable children (with rags on their backs, although I didn't see that) or the unknown and unexplored terrain. Over the years, I forgot what I felt and what I saw and became like so many of us, more concerned with prosperity than with the souls of people who needed Jesus and the health of those going without.
Since then, I've read books and watched movies and I would feel... I would feel responsible; I would feel broken-hearted; I would feel needed, called. I would feel too small to make a difference.
I've always been known as the 'emotional' one. People have faulted me (and also have given me credit) for the way I become passionate about things. I know that many people don't take me too seriously because, being 'emotional,' my passions would wane and I would move onto the next soapbox in my path. I've struggled with this definition of my character. I've always been ashamed at how easily I cry or become angry, but God has been working on me. I am finally becoming aware of the fact that God didn't create me to be 'Little Miss Bleeding Heart.' Maybe God gave me a little taste of what Jesus' heart must look like. Jesus is passionate. Jesus is broken-hearted at the sight of suffering, both physical and spiritual. Remember that God created each of us in His image. To some people He gave wisdom. To some He gave healing hands. To some he gave... you fill in the blank.
In the past week, I've felt bombarded with images of people in need of Christ. I've read 2 books that have opened my eyes to the importance of ministry. The first, 'The Rose Veil' made the Iranian crisis very real to me. I watch the news and see pictures of riots and I feel connected. Here in Canada, we take for granted that the people we vote into office will actually run the country. We don't ever have to think about walking down the street, covering our faces and looking at our feet in fear. We don't have to hide from the government or from the patriarchal society that threatens our every move. We take for granted our right to worship, our right to purchase our necessities. We take for granted our right to be safe. Why is our world this way? Why, on one side of the ocean, can we live our lives the way we please when just over the water, life is so different that we cannot even begin to comprehend it? Why don't we care?
Let's bring this a little closer to home, shall we? I'm reading a second novel now, 'The Street Lawyer.' It speaks openly about the trials and prevalence of homelessness even here, in Medicine Hat. It tells the story of a upper-class, well-educated lawyer. The man lives in a beautiful home with a beautiful wife, making hundreds of thousands of dollars a year not even aware of people going without their basic needs being met. And yet he is unhappy. He comes face to face with homelessness and begins to see stories play themselves out right in front of his eyes. The narrator talks about people starving and freezing to death... HERE on our continent! Why aren't we more outraged by this? Since marrying Trevor, my passion for transient men and women has overwhelmed me at times. We became involved with one man who'd been abused and raised in a very sad situation. He became an alcoholic, just like his father was, and lost his family, just like his father had. He began coming to our church while living in Transitional Housing. The first time I laid eyes on him, I knew Jack had been placed in our path by God Himself. But why? To open my eyes so that I could see beyond my perfect and clean little world? Jack left town and I'll not likely see him again. He may not even be alive now. But I know that Jack had committed his life to God. He was struggling with how to live out his faith and how to beat the demons of alcoholism back when he left, but I claim a Bible verse for him in faith every time he crosses my mind. "For I know the plans I have for you. Plans to prosper you and to give you a future." That's as true for Jack as it is for each and every one of us who claims Christ as our Saviour.
So what to do now? I feel a tugging on my heart. I want to help, even if I'm only meant to help one person. I don't know what God has planned for me. Maybe He plans for me to volunteer here in the Hat, maybe at a soup kitchen or the food bank. Maybe it's His plan for me to finish my nursing degree, fulfilling my dream, so that I can help medically. Maybe He wants me to stay in Canada, helping to immunize and educate on Native Reserves and on the streets. Maybe He plans for me to travel doing short-term missions work. All I can do is plead with God to show me what my next step is supposed to be.
And that's my tale for tonight. Thanks for taking the time to read my ramblings and if God places it on your heart to pray, please pray for His wisdom and guidance. "Where two or more are gathered..."