Wednesday, May 19, 2010

the joy of a broken heart (#2)

Shortly after I moved back and began attending church regularly again, the Lord gave me a desire to get involved. Going to the college group showed me what true fellowship was, serving in children's ministry and on the media team helped me appreciate service in a way I had never known before, and seeing teams and missionaries go and come back gave me that passion to do something "more" for the Lord.

I was happy. I was content. I was surrounded by friends that I loved and in ministries that I enjoyed. In essence, I was "thriving" and I was ready to take on so much for the Lord's sake. I thought, for sure, this was what it was supposed to feel like as we surrendered our lives to the Lord. We reach out to Him and He gives us a smile-friendly life to lead. Right?

It was pretty soon after I remember getting involved that a short term trip came back from Scotland. It had been announced, around that same time, that one of the assistant pastors would be moving there to begin a work as well.

I can't remember my first thoughts upon hearing this announcement, but think about it: Scotland? Seriously? They aren't poor like certain places in Africa. They aren't devastated by wars like Ukraine. They aren't oppressed like China. They aren't lost tribes in the middle of the jungle. They aren't...well...typically a country one things of when you hear the word "missionary" at all. Why Scotland?

One Sunday, they showed us a video. As the song "Light of the World" began playing in the background, the video camera panned the darkened streets of Edinburgh. It showed centuries-old churches being used as occult shops. It showed kids so lost in their own world of self-satisfaction and hate that they couldn't even fathom unconditional love.

It showed a world desperate for the Love of God. It showed a country that had once sent out the first missionaries to un-churched people groups now unable to understand the joy of sharing that good news.

I remember crying. I remember wanting to reach out and hug those kids. I remember being angry at those shop owners who would turn what used to be a house of worship into a house of blasphemy. My heart burned with a desire to produce change but without the means to do so.

When a heart breaks, it does so in a million pieces. It is messy. It is real. It is also only something that can be healed by the Great Physician. Watching that video and hearing our pastor's heart for the lost of Scotland, my heart cried out. It broke in that messy, real way that is hard to clean up.

I prayed. I got on my knees. I asked the Lord to send me there. I wanted to give to these people the salvation that I had. I wanted to tell them that what they were doing was wrong. I wanted to give them HOPE and show them Who holds their future.

With a heart broken before the Lord, I sat at His feet and waited for a response...

"For the love of Christ compels us, because we judge thus: that if One died for all, then all died; and He died for all, that those who live should live no longer for themselves, but for Him who died for them and rose again." 2 Corinthians 5:14-15

(Friends, if you are reading this, then know that the verse above is talking about YOU. The One it is talking about is Jesus Christ and He died to bring you new life. Romans 9:9-10 says "that if you confess with your mouth the Lord Jesus and believe in your heart that God has raised Him from the dead, you will be saved. For with the heart one believes unto righteousness, and with the mouth confession is made unto salvation." I would love to talk to you more about this decision:

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