I wonder how Jesus must have felt living and dining with sinners.
The tax collectors who made the poor poorer. The prostitutes (and men who made use of them) who viewed sex as something that could be bought and sold. The Pharisees who looked down on everyone else. The normal people like us, who looked average on the surface but with hearts that burned with hatred, deceit, discontent, lawlessness, disregard for parents, disregard for God.
How He felt when He cried that He longed to gather Jerusalem under His wings, but they would not let Him.
For He came to love them and die for their sins. And to look at them live in their sins, refusing to turn away. To know that some of them are so deeply loved, yet chose to reject that love. To see them love instead that sin that He paid the price for with His own blood.
It must be way way more than the hurt I felt today. The hurt of seeing and knowing how much people need you yet glory in their sin. The hurt of loving them, and loving Your laws, and yet not judging them. The hurt of not being able to do anything to help. To see the lost who know not they are lost.
When the hands are itching for action, the mouth knows not what to say. And the heart calls out: you know what to do. Trust. And pray. Love. And pray.
Pray because that's the only thing I can do. Pray because that's the best thing I can do. To pray means to trust in faith. And doesn't the Bible say that the just will live by that daily manna called faith?
Dear God I trust that you love them more than I do, and I know You are mightier than I could ever ever imagine. I trust in Your love and goodness. Thank you for You.
