I watched a story on public television last night that disturbed me. I tried to turn away. I tried to turn it off, but something (or Someone) told me to keep watching. I needed to see the suffering. I needed to be reminded of those in other parts of the world whose lives look very different from mine.
When the world I live in is concerned about spring flowers blooming in their yard, or summer sandals on sale at their favorite store, others are trying to forget the scenes that still play in their mind a year later. Women who were repeatedly raped by savage soldiers, who ripped babies from their arms just moments before and flung them into a burning hut. Children who watched their mothers sliced into pieces, and their fathers riddled with bullets just after they were mercilessly beaten.
If I can't get the image out of my head, how can those who saw it firsthand? And those children who watched and endured unmerciful things?
But the saddest part to all of this was the knowing that these people were tortured because of their faith (which, by the way, was not Christianity). They were being killed because they refused to embrace the belief system of the country they now occupied.
My heart broke in so many ways for the faces whose hearts bled uncontrollable tears. As their burned bodies flashed across my screen, I just wanted to crawl inside and hold the women and children and weep alongside them. And while this would be something, it wouldn't be enough, because I know that they need more than just my compassion. My arms can only hold them for so long. My tears will only fall for so long. So, while our tears might mean something, they don't fill the cavity of a core that screams out for justice. Only One can deliver this, and what broke my heart last night was that these people don't even know the One who can and will deliver it in full measure one day. They think their justice will come from a political system that is on the earth now, but even the strongest government that man can produce is not the answer for what they are suffering.
I've been teaching the Book of Revelation to my junior/senior Bible class, and when we came to the 16th chapter, I noticed something that spoke straight to my heart. When the third bowl of wrath is poured out, the angel of the waters praises the God who is righteous and holy, because He judged these things. No one really likes to study the Book of Revelation, because it's a difficult book to grasp. But what I've noticed studying it this time, is that God is not only merciful with all of His warnings, He is also true to His very nature of justice. You see, people who suffer need a God who not only sees the suffering, but One who can and will do something about it.
The One who told me to keep watching last night is the One who wants me to go beyond the seeing, and pray. When I can't physically be in that place right now, He tells me to be in the place He now has me, and to pray in it. He also wants me to equip those who might one day serve in that same place and tell the hurting soul about a Savior, a Deliverer, and a God of justice. And so I teach.
I don't want my day-to-day to be consumed with the things of this world: what dishes I will use to set on my table, the clothes I will pick out to wear for the day, or even to constantly notice and pine for the new floor my kitchen so desperately needs. As much as I DON'T want the images from last night's program to replay in my head today, I know that I need them to so that I won't forget to pray, and I won't forget to look again. I won't forget to eye-to-eye the people I encounter today, and make myself available to listen and then to comfort.
And maybe, if I look long enough, and listen with my whole heart, I will get the chance to tell them about the God who not only loves them with great passion, but is able to do something about the cavity that pain has bore into their soul.
And wouldn't that be something?
