Last night we had a young man over for dinner, who was born and raised a Muslim and converted to Christianity last year. He shared with us about the political unrest he grew up around; that if he went to demonstrate in the streets, he would be captured and tortured. This has happened to those closest to him. He knows that if he returns to his country, he will most definitely be put to death for his faith in Jesus. He knows that because of this choice he has made, he will likely never see his family again. So he lives here, in a hotel room, alone. His story broke my heart, because that's not the way it should be. My heart is heavy for him.
We also found out that Mike, who was living with us for awhile, is homeless again and living under a bridge nearby. Our youth group went to serve at Homeless and Hungry ministry outreach, and he was there. My heart is heavy for him.
We are going through all sorts of trials with Micah's class at school, that I won't go into here. The parents have every right to be upset, and major change is needed in many areas, and I feel helpless. I am trying to be a light in the midst of chaos and anger, while experiencing that same anger, and it is not easy. My heart is heavy.
While my heart is heavy, I do not feel hopeless. I have to hold on to hope, believing that God can do great things in the midst of these circumstances. If I walk around hopeless, how am I any different than unbelievers? I am sure that you feel heavy about many things in your life as well. The only thing that brings me any peace is bringing my concerns to God and laying them at His feet. He is truly the only one that can change these circumstances.
I will leave you with a Scripture that my friends (who lost their baby) posted on their Facebook wall the day after this happened. May I have this same kind of hope and faith: