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Did you come for me?

"Did you come for me?"

Except for the occasional beep of hospital machines and hum of the AC, the room was silent. Yet, somewhere in the darkness the words seemed to pulsate through time and space, reverberating off the walls and into my soul. There it was again, "Did you come for me?".

I watched her sleeping peacefully. I wondered where she might have been that night if our paths had not miraculously crossed. And no, it's no miracle of my own making. I was on my way home with a migraine, yearning for sleep and a better day. But God had different plans. Plans to inconvenience me so that I could see Him. Plans He wouldn't let me miss.

Somewhere in the night the words rang hauntingly again, "Did you come for me?"

I couldn't help but wonder if this was her true heart cry. All the years of searching. All the pain. All the detours and wrong roads that had led her to this moment - weary, afraid and alone.

And now louder, a million voices seemed to scream into the night, "Did you come for me?"

These words beg me to question: is this what each person, lost and broken, is crying out and we are missing them while they remain hidden behind the cultural stigma of drugs, prostitution, poverty and the like? “God, did you come for me?" is what they whisper in desperate attempts for someone to see them, but everyone walks by. “Did you come for me?” They scream again as they shove the needle in their arm. “Did you come for me?” Is the tearful cry as she is raped for the millionth time. “Did you come for me?” He wonders as he waits for the next beating from the dad that was supposed to love him. “Did you come for me?” Cries the hearts of the broken next to us - at church, at the store, at the rest stop. “Did you come for me?” What if every person shooting up at this very moment is actually yearning for help, what if every woman opening the door to another midnight abuser is truly calling out into the darkness with the age old wondering, "God are you real? If so, where are you? Do you even care? Have you forgotten me? Did you come for me too? Did you die for me too?"

But there is no answer. Or at least none they hear. And why? Because God is silent? Hardly. It's because the men and women He planted here on earth to be His hands and feet have failed.

We have failed to see. We have turned a blind eye, we have shut our ears and walked away. Like the old bible story of the Good Samaritan goes, we too resemble the self righteous men who saw the beaten man on the side of the road but decided it was too messy. We say we don’t have time, someone else will do it. We reason our way out of helping and cross by on the other side. Leaving the world to continue to question: "God, did you come for me?"

But you see, God did come. He came in the form of His Son sent as a baby. He came and He grew up innocent and pure and yet died a criminal death. A death for you and for me, for each of us that begs, "Did you come for me? No matter how far I've gone or how broken I am, did you come for me too?" . And still, the question hangs in the air, waiting to be answered by those who claim to be the body of Christ, right here in this moment, planted for such a time as this.

Oh won't we be the answer? Won't we turn away from our broken lenses of religion and step down from our soap boxes of loaded opinions and step over the dividing lines and grasp a hand, a hand desperately alone and crying out, "Did you come for me?" .

Will we be their answer today? Will we show them by our love, our compassion, our forgiveness and grace, by sacrificing our time and our convenience by our willingness to get down in the dirt with them and in doing so show that He did indeed come for each and every soul on earth, no matter their gender, race, age, or sin - He came for us all. But if we don't go tell them, if we don't ever go meet them in the mess, leaving all our judgments behind, they won't ever know.

As I watch the clock tick on through the night and into morning, my heart breaks again for this calling on my life. I ache for all those I've missed, blinded by my selfishness and pain. So many more like her that I know are still lost and alone. I watch her breathe, in and out, barely a stir. I know her heart is still crying out, "God, did you come for me?". I pull the blanket up around her shoulders and tuck her in. I hope today her question is answered. I hope today she knows, He did.

Today will you be someone’s answer? Will you open your heart and eyes to see? Will you be the response to their prayer and show them with your life that yes, yes God loves them. And yes, He came for them too.

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