In just a few short days I get to return to the city that
captured my heart last October . . . New York City that is. In truth it wasn't the city, but the
people. It was in the conversations with
homeless individuals and in the faces of children that have seen too much for
their age that I learned what true love meant.
I remember sitting on the steps of a church talking with a
man who would be sleeping on the same step that night. As we talked I asked if there was anything I
could pray with him for. Expecting him
to smirk at me and ask for prayer for a house or a job, I was surprised when he
said he would love prayer for a new pair of socks and some toothpaste. So practical. I remember that little boy I got to make
paper airplanes with. He didn't want me
to leave just as much as I longed to stay.
It was there that I learned the importance of
attention. The impact of showing someone
that they are someone. The difference a
smile and a kind word can make in the life of someone who is too often
ignored.
I return this time not as part of a mission team, but as a
tourist. Yet with Christ as my Savior I
am an ambassador of Christ wherever I am, in whatever context, and at whatever
time. I pray that I will not get so caught
up in the "tourist" side of my trip that I forget to use every
opportunity and chance to show Christ's love to those around me. Let this be my prayer not just as I head out
of my own community, but every morning when the Lord opens my eyes to a new
day.
