The pictures do not do it justice and words do not suffice. The throbbing ache of my heart and the swirling whirlwind of raw emotions disrupt the monotonous life I have returned to. I drift through my tasks as if on autopilot. The world keeps moving on around me and it all seems so self-centered. Although nothing has physically changed, when I walk around my house I feel like a stranger. I talk to acquaintances and come away wondering at the frivolous things we fill our lives with. Where did we go wrong? When did we lose our vision?
When did we close our eyes to their needs? When did we forget that we are supposed to shine unto them? We are the city on a hill, a beacon of love and truth, arms for the broken-hearted, eyes for the blind and lost. The only grace a stranger may ever experience.
Lord, give me your heart.
Some times God speaks in a still small voice.
...To visit the fatherless and the widows in their affliction...
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