From everyone who has been given much, much will be demanded; and from the one who has been entrusted with much, much more will be asked-Luke 12:48
One day a mommy held her little baby boy, kissed him, put him to her breast and named him Renaud.
I have no idea what happened between that day and today…
… all I know is that today, he is 4 months old. He is abandoned and he is dying. Today I held him in my arms and I prayed for the sweet relief to come soon. For hours in this hospital, on a small side street in Port Au Prince I held this life in my hands. He was precious and suffering and loved and human. He was there and tomorrow, or the next day, he won’t be.
A few weeks ago I got a treasured message from an old friend. There were many beautiful and personal things that happened in that conversation but the one that really jumped out at me was when he talked about this verse from Luke. He turned it in a way that has played through my mind over and over again.
What if “much” in my world wasn’t money, which it seems to always be when I find these words quoted… What is my “much” are the opportunities that I come across each day?
Today was not the fist time I held a dying child. It won’t be the last. Today wasn’t the first time I have faced injustice in the eyes of a little girl, of a homeless man or a crippled grandmother. Tomorrow I will wake up and fight it again.
Every single night I go to sleep with a prayer on my lips to be used in some way. Sometimes I wake up willing to take on the world and sometimes my selfishness gets in the way. There is no shortage of opportunity in this land and, unfortunately, there is also no shortage, it seems, to my humanness. Every moment of every day is met by a violent clash of opportunity and options. I am rarely sure of any decision I make and even more rarely able to rest in it once it has been made. When I tell someone I can’t help I often struggle for days or even weeks afterwards, wondering if I made the right choice. I pour every bit of energy I have into a little starving boy just to get on the back of a motorcycle an head up a mountain to where 2 other littles wait for their mama to come home. They need me to be there, to hear them, to find the energy to delight in them and yet, on so many days it’s all I can do to make sure everyone’s teeth are clean and prayers are said before I fall into bed, my own prayers falling somewhere between my heart and my lips, hoping with all hope that I’m not screwing these 2 lives up.
Today, so very much has been entrusted to me. I have had so many opportunities to lean on Him as I live in the midst of this broken beauty. I pray I have met the expectations of the“much” all the while knowing that I have fallen so very short. I know how incredibly blessed I am to face the things I do each day. I KNOW what it means to be trusted with the chance to share life and death and everything in between with these beautiful people. That doesn’t mean I am always good at it. I am struggling so very much with the balance of being given and having much expected of me. I pray for strength through tears of exhaustion and I cry over the phone to my best friend, who moved 15 miles (6 hours!!) away about how hard it is to not have her next door. I throw myself these pity parties and in the end I find myself back where this whole journey started, kneeling in the dirt at the feet of the One who created this beautiful, totally screwed up plan, empty hands open, begging him to find something in me that He can use, something beautiful, something worthy. I plead with him to give me one more chance and to fill my heart with the strength I will need to make that chance count. I pray that much will be entrusted to me and that I will faithfully give that much more, through the strength and grace that only comes from Him.
I wonder what my life would be if I looked at those those knocks on my gate that come at the *inconvenient* times as opportunities instead of annoyances…
…I wonder if I even know how to start being so wrapped up in God that I finally start to lose myself.