Fix Your Eyes...



As a pastor, I often find myself with a front row seat to the brokenness that permeates our world.  It's what keeps me up at night, what drives me to my knees, and what pushes me to keep doing what I do.  In fact, if I were to write a description for pastors, I would include:  Must be willing to have your heart break...over and over again.  It happens when I sit across from a teenager over a cup of Dunkin as they show me the scars from cutting.  It happens when I get a phone call from a parent whose child has been placed in a juvenile detention home.  It happens when I pray over a kid who will spend another Christmas away from her parents because they are in jail.  It happens daily as I listen to people's stories...stories that turned out differently than expected.  It happened this week while serving in a homeless shelter.

I don't remember his name, but from the start I could tell he was carrying an immense amount of pain.  It was freezing that night and trying to make small talk, I made mention of that.  He flippantly said something along the lines of, "Like you would know what it meant to be cold," and then proceeded to totally turn his back to me.  In that moment I knew two things.  One, he was right.  And two, I had something to learn from this guy.  So I sat down.  Honestly, I don't really know what I said first, but I must have said something about having a child.  He softened for a minute and asked me about my son.  I told him I adopted Biruk from Ethiopia and within a few minutes he began to tell me his story.

Over the course of the next hour, I learned more than my heart could handle.  I listened as he shared that as a teenager he had gone to a prestigious prep school and had been given everything he could have wanted...except for the love of his father who had been abusive.  At 17 he had run away, choosing to cut off all ties with his family.  This past Christmas, almost 25 years later, he had driven from Florida to Maryland in attempt reconcile things with his siblings.  When he arrived, they wanted nothing to do with him.  There were so many other details to his story, all that led to one conclusion for this man.  He hated his life.  He told me over and over and over again, "I hate my f-ing life.  I hate everything about it.  I hate what I have become.  I hate my family.  I would rather die.  I wish I would die.  I wish someone would just kill me."  He literally hated everything about living.

As I sat listening to this man's story, I did everything I could to hold back the tears.  The hopelessness that bled out of this man's heart was unbearable.  At one point he turned to me and said, "If this was your life, wouldn't you want to die too???"  Honestly, I wanted so bad to say something that would matter but felt like anything I said would be empty words to him.  I wanted to tell him about Jesus and the hope that makes a difference.  I wanted him to know that his life had value, meaning, and purpose.  I wanted to tell him that he was loved, that he was forgiven, and that God saw something beautiful in him and wasn't done writing his story.  As I opened my mouth to say something he said, "And don't give me that God crap.  I believe in God.  I wish he would just kill me and take me now."

As I got in the car that night, I wept as though someone close to me had died.  I couldn't contain my tears and I couldn't collect myself.  I cried that next morning and again that afternoon.  His brokenness had broke me.

As I tried to process all that I had seen and heard that night, I realized why his story mattered so much.  His life was really not that different from me or the teenagers in my youth group.  He had grown up in a home where there were good and bad days.  He had probably hung out on the weekends with friends as he grew up.  My guess is that he had days that were challenging and days that were celebratory.  He probably dealt with people who disappointed him and people who probably loved him.  But somewhere along the way, he had lost sight of the one who had not only loved him but had created him for something amazing.

It's not that hard to lose sight of Jesus.  Just spend a few minutes fixing your eyes on your past mistakes, your broken relationships, and the things you regret.  Make being successful your number one priority.  Chase after the American Dream.  Fill your day with busyness.  Plan your life out...without asking God about his plans.  It doesn't matter whether we find ourselves homeless or living the American Dream, if we lose sight of Jesus, in the end we will find ourselves broken and without hope.

This past Wednesday night, I had decided to share the story of this man with my youth group.  About 5 minutes before we started, my friend came in to tell me the man had passed away at the shelter the night before, just 24 hours after we had had our conversation.  As I heard those words, my heart sank. 

I don't want to lose sight of the one who has everything I need to survive the hardships, challenges and tough days that are inevitably ahead.  More importantly, I don't want my teenagers to lose sight of that.  And so I challenged them that night to do one thing in this year of 2015.  Find ways to "FIX YOUR EYES ON HIM."  When you are tempted to focus on your past...FIX YOUR EYES ON HIM. When you want to do your own thing because it's way easier than doing God's...FIX YOUR EYES ON HIM.  When you are dealt some really crappy cards in life...FIX YOUR EYES ON HIM.    When you family is a mess...FIX YOUR EYES ON HIM.  When you are tempted to seek after the things that don't matter...FIX YOUR EYES ON HIM.  When you struggle to love yourself...FIX YOUR EYES ON HIM.

May we be reminded of what it says in Hebrews 12:1-3 (with a little emphasis from my heart in bold):

"Therefore, since we are surrounded by such a cloud of witnesses (true faith heroes who have been there, done that, and lived to tell the story), let us throw off everything that hinders and the sin that so easily entangles us (our selfishness, our pride, our plans, our wants, our junk, our past, our brokenness).  And let us run with perseverance (strength, stamina and focus) the race marked out for us (race that was handcrafted for you and for me, the race where we will discover what we were made for, the race where the passions Jesus has put inside of us come out in crazy fashion), fixing our eyes on Jesus, the author and perfector of our faith (the one who writes your story, the one who knows you at the core and loves you, the one who believes you are here for a purpose)." 


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