The power of a word.

I make people cry. A lot.

Now before anyone jumps to conclusions and assumes that I am some sort of cruel person who goes around making folks cry all day, let me stop you there. Truth be told, I struggle with assertiveness and any time I see someone in need of anything, my natural inclination is to try to find a way to provide what is needed. I am very much a "see a problem and identify a solution" type of gal. I see someone who is hungry, I look for food. I see someone who seems lonely, I sit down beside them. Whatever the solution is to my fixer-upper situation, I am all ears.  Just call me Sarah, the resolutionist. I feel like every problem has a solution and I am determined to find it. Even when it doesn't look like what I might have imagined.

Here's comes where I make people cry a lot. Well, technically I don't. I just get to be a middle man, I guess. God has blessed me by allowing me to be used as a vessel. Nothing that I do makes people cry, because the tears that I see streak down people's cheeks come from a source much higher than me. Honestly, I like to think that I have positioned myself as low to the ground as possible, and definitely on my knees in constant conversation with the One who sends me. He is the Alpha and the Omega and His resolution in people's lives is miraculously better than mine could ever be. He is my source and without His guidance, any of my fixer upper efforts would be in vain.

So maybe I need to restate the thesis of this writing...

I don't make people cry: that would be the intervention of the Holy Spirit doing that.  He works in the lives of hurting people who simply need to hear that the journey that they are has not left them alone wandering in the wilderness; instead, they are being carried by the One who sees their struggle and tells them to take up His yoke, for it is lighter. This isn't necessarily easy for me to do either. Remember, this fixer-upper would like to be able to bring the resolution in a moment's time so that when "A" is presented, "B" can be added, to produce the solution of "C" which is how I have learned to process over the years. But the "C" is representative of something else not of myself, rather of the Big C which is Christ and He is the truest answer to life's questions. Sure, I can try to provide a real tangible answer in the form of a food donation or a change of clothes, or anyone number of things that my human mind can think to provide, but the real action comes when I bow my head and begin to pray.

It is then that the beauty of the Creator fills a messy situation and calls the weary traveler into  a place to rest. Where He reminds them that He sees them. Not like some universal entity looking down from the cosmos with a vague perception of what human kind is up to, but more like a mom or dad who is calling them home because it is dinner time. He is calling their name in the direction that he knows that they are and is ready to serve up their favorite meal. Sounds silly, I know. But that's how I envision my personal daddy who is waiting for me to come running home and leap into His arms.

So, yeah. The tears will probably continue as I get to pour into folks the good news about a Savior, who already knows what the beginning and end look like. It is His faithfulness through each of their journeys that He is so good to remind them that even when they can't see it, He is there and He is the answer.

So go. And be a messenger. The world needs more of them.