India Part 3--The Harvest is Full

Matthew 9:35-38 "Jesus went through all the towns and villages, teaching in their synagogues, proclaiming the good news of the kingdom and healing every disease and sickness. When He saw the crowds He had compassion on them because they were harassed and helpless like a sheep without a shepherd. Then He said to the disciples, "The harvest is plentiful, the workers are few. Ask the Lord of the harvest, therefore, to send out workers into this harvest field."


We were just hanging out in the village my dad grew up in. We weren't performing miracles, weren't healing diseases, we were just walking around. The compassion that filled my whole self was so overwhelming. I couldn't stop thinking about it long after we had left. That compassion took root in my heart and infiltrated the core of who I am. Was this just a glimpse, just a fraction of the compassion Jesus had walking through those towns and villages? His compassion drove Him to action: to heal, to share good news. My compassion just lead me to tears.

I've only experienced that feeling of overwhelming compassion a few times in my life. Each time has been when interacting with children. The Lord has made my heart soft for his babies. And every time it happens, it scares me. It scares me that I won't do anything about it. That the moment will pass, that the Holy Spirit will stop whispering (or in these moments it's more like shouting) love into me. Love that wants to change something. Love that wants to give up every comfort I know to somehow rescue these kids--rescue them from the world, from poverty,  from abuse, from a bleak future, from no hope.

I fear that if I don't figure out how to respond, He'll stop giving me these moments that are in equal parts beautiful and painful. These drops of life straight from the scars in His hands.

So, sometimes I shut down everything else. I forget about my house, my work, my friends, my clothes, the luxuries of life, the insecurities. All I can think about is this compassion that is choking me and what I'm going to do with it. I'm scared to go home. Scared to miss the moment. Scared that this will just become memories of the past instead of the beginning of a future.

But, I've decided--I have no idea. I know this compassion isn't something I mustered up myself. So, if I believe it's from Him, I know He can do something with it. Instead of making my mind race, I've realized I need to just be quiet and release it--let Him tell me why He has put this passion inside of me and how He means for it to be used.

I will keep asking though. I won't ignore it. The worst thing I can do is ignore it. Whatever it is that stirs you in your core, don't ignore it.

Because the harvest is full and He's looking for workers.

I'm standing up and waving my hand in the air. I'm ready to work.