Are you willing to give it all? No matter what you may see or where you may walk. Though you may stare into the eyes of demons and monsters, will you still be able to worship His name? How deep is your love for Him.
Today I saw a man. A man who was barely able to walk because he was ridden with sickness. As I watched him I was able to clearly make out where one bone starts and another ends. Today I looked into the eyes of death.
You do not know how a heart can break until you see something like that. Not only seeing death in all his awful glory but also being able to feel the coldness of his presence running up your spine and hitting you straight through the face. Punching all the air out of your lungs, leaving you numb with horror and a raw pain that cannot be described.
It's asif, at that stage the only defence you can think of is to start digging up questions. Leaving you out in the open, being bombarded with questions which you don't know the answers too. And forcing you deeper into a corner in total despair. Bringing the images back with every question that remains unanswered. Like a never ending ripple effect. Leaving you chocking on your own tears.
It's in moments like these when I can't fathom why people can become so cold towards death. Strolling past the dead without even blinking. Asif death has become their companion, greeting him on the streets with a wide grin. The thought only filled me with disgust and astonishment. How can you become so cold as to not want to help the people who are busy dying? How can you look at them straight in the eyes and say they are better off dead than alive? That you can help them more when they are dead? Is a life THAT worthless to you?
I've always been told that life is the most important thing. That it's something to be treasured. It's something to mourn about when it's lost. Yet here it's a normal thing. Here life has no worth at all. Even a cup of tea has more worth than a person's life.
The thought made me sick to my very core. Everything inside of me wanted to stop and help that man in any way possible. Every muscle in my body screamed out to turn back and help him. My heart stretched as far as it possibly could just to try and touch his, to fill him with as much warmth and love as I could possibly give. Yet it was a helpless effort. For death was already there, it seemed asif the man was already starting to accept his presence. I could barely make out the flicker of light in his eyes. It was clear that hope no longer lingers in his soul. It has gone long ago. Leaving him cold and alone. Hopeless. Dying.
I screamed out a prayer to my Father, for I was in no state to do anything else. With tears streaming down my face and my shattered heart in my hands, I asked God to help that man. To save him from the grip of death. To give him the salvation he deserves. And that when he dies that his soul will live on. In heaven, where he belongs. That death will no longer be his companion. But that God will be.
I prayed that he will give his heart and soul to Jesus. That He will be able to turn around and look death straight in the eyes saying, "death where is your sting?"
I pray that his life will be far better in Heaven than what it was on earth. That God will show him that his life is worth so much more than a cup of tea. And that his life is very much worth it. Even though the people may not have thought so.
Though there was a brief moment where my hope in humanity was shattered. It was regained. For I was reminded of all the compassionate hearts whom I've met throughout the year. And also to see my team cry and weep with me. I was shown that compassion is always there. Even when some may push it away with a bitter glare.
Though my heart may ache, I shall not lose hope. For I know my Father's hand is there. Scooping up the lost and hopeless and taking them back home. So with a heavy but hopeful heart I greet that man. For one day I will see him again.
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