Every time I open my computer another need reaches out and tries to grab my heart. Most of the time it’s successful.
A picture of starving children begging for clean water reminds me of my short trip to Africa. Parents beg for prayer as their child fights for his life. A news article proves how many babies really are dying every day from abortion. The eyes of a young girl caught in human trafficking peer back at me. There’s one more plea to become an organ donor. Finally an online friend redeems an orphan through adoption.
My heart begins to bleed, and I want to go into super-frantic mode to do something – anything. But that quickly ends in exhaustion as I contemplate how vast these needs and how small I am. Then comes the guilt.
Guilt for not doing more. Guilt for not selling everything and giving it to the poor. Guilt for not filling my house with orphans. Guilt for not being an advocate and standing up for those babies who will die today. Just plain guilt.
But sometimes the guilt comes from another place. A place of not having a bleeding heart but just a heart that hurts. I don’t like the injustice I see. I want it to be different. I’m sad. I even ask Jesus to come back quickly so that it will be over. But my heart doesn’t bleed. So I ask myself, “Why isn’t my heart bleeding over this?” And I feel guilty.
I read a blog post that Beth Moore wrote recently, and it was liberating for me. First, because it showed me that I’m not the only one who feels this way. And secondly, because of this:
“What do you look like when you love the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your mind and with all your strength?” ~ Beth Moore
The person I look like has a heart bleeding with her own shade of red. It’s a shade of red different from anyone else’s because it’s the one God gave specifically to me.
My heart bleeds for unborn babies who die from their imaginary lack of grown-up dignity. It bleeds for women who go on and on believing lies from the enemy instead of experiencing God’s redemptive power. It bleeds for children with bloated stomachs and shoe-less feet. It bleeds for single people who have the opportunity to serve God whole heartily and plan for a future marriage that glorifies Him, but they don’t take advantage of it. It bleeds for the orphan who thinks she’s not chosen. It bleeds for a culture that says raising children full-time is not using a woman’s full potential. It bleeds for the Seventeen magazine article entitled “Tips for a Better Make Out Session”. It bleeds for the woman stuffed in a wooden box to be transported to another country through human trafficking. It bleeds for the infant waiting for a heart transplant. It bleeds for the face that I know is so far from God.
This is the shade of red my heart bleeds. For everything else it hurts, but this is what causes it to bleed.
What makes my heart bleed gets the first of me.
When there’s a 5K in my hometown to support the Crisis Pregnancy Center, that’s where I spend my Saturday morning. When a young college woman from the singles Bible study I lead breaks up with her boyfriend, that’s who I invite over. When a missionary friend who lives in Africa needs support, that’s where I give it. When my baby daughter wants me to hold her just a little bit longer, that’s when I sing just a little bit louder.
And when I wake up each morning to a new day, my bleeding heart gets the first-fruits of my prayers. I pray with focused intention knowing that this is what I look like when I love God with all my heart, with all my soul, with all my mind, and with all my strength. He assigned me each of these to make my heart bleed.
Where would they be if I let guilt stop me.
What makes your heart bleed your shade of red?
