Sick of it

I'm sick of it. Sitting in my fancy office, wearing my nice clothes, looking out my floor to ceiling windows at a beautiful lake. I'm sick of it. I'm physically sick of having hurting people drive across town to see me for an evaluation and turn around and drive right back to their poverty...while I sit comfortably at my desk wondering what the drug reps are bringing for lunch. I am so very grateful for my job and my life but I can no longer deny that there are hurting, starving, suffering people right here in my own city. I've prayed for God to break my heart for what breaks His...and He is doing just that.

I just met a couple. Their story is so similar to so many others I've heard over the years. He was working in a manual labor job, got hurt, and now they have nothing. He is in constant pain with no medical care. They live in the projects and have to beg for help to keep their lights and heat on. And they have a 6-year-old little boy depending on them. She is looking for work but has little experience and even fewer opportunities.

I evaluated him for disability and asked him if he had any questions for me. You know what he said? "Just one question...would you pray for us?" And I broke. For the first time, I really saw this couple, this man and this woman created in God's image. I saw pain and despair and my heart broke. Would I pray for them? You bet. And I did. I prayed with them, cried with them, and hugged them, wishing with everything I had that I could take away their pain.

They left but their story still pierces my heart. Not because it's so unique or tragic but because God's children in one zipcode should not be suffering like this while His children in the next zipcode live in luxury. I'm sick of it.