This question is one that I continue to ponder.
Who is waiting on you to rise up and serve, to love with the guidance and fullness of GOD and the Spirit?…
I went out that first evening in Morocco. After spending some time in the port area, I made my way through the medina. It was here where I saw him. He is a boy that I met about 11 months ago when I was last there. He looked different, but I still recognized him. As I approached him, I called out his name. With the strength he had he slowly raised his head and looked my direction. And then his head fell back against the wall he had propped himself against.
And there he was. A boy that used to be full of life, hope, and just so much energy, was now (eleven months later) needing a wall to hold him up as he fades in and out of consciousness. I tried to ask him anything I could think of with my mixture of english, spanish, and arabic, and he spoke a few words. He had no smile, no warmth, just the cold reality that drugs are now a part of his life. I helped him sit down so he could rest. He closed his eyes. And As I knelt down, keeping enough distance to maintain boundaries, but close enough so that he knew I was there, I said a silent prayer, left him some food, and fought off the tears reflecting my heart that broke for him.
I went to my room that night with the reality that each night that these children spend in the streets, strips more and more of their life, their joy, their hope away. And the tears came. Eleven months later I came back. Eleven months past. And I wonder as each day goes by, who is waiting for me. I wonder who is waiting for someone to reach out to them.
I will remember him and in those moments that I hesitate out of fear or just plain laziness and selfishness, or say…”later”, the question to be asked is, “who is waiting?”
The time is now…