The Last Day of Hope

I’m weary, I’m sad, I’m passionate but discouraged.

How can I show people who are dead there’s such a thing as life? How do I tell the blind there’s such a thing as sight? How do I convince the ailing they need medicine when they think they’re well?

I can’t save them. Their eternal life is between them and God but I don’t want to do too little to help with their journey. I am a witness of the living, I have light, and I have a voice . . . but I so often feel terribly insignificant when they don’t listen. This discouragement just proves I am counting on my own strength though–which of course makes me weary because I don’t have the necessary strength. To be discouraged means I am not trusting God to do his job. I want to trust God and I want to simply be his tool, which means being content in not knowing of or seeing a change in my friends’ lives.

How can I care so much and not be so sad to see them daily choosing to reject God and walk further down the wrong road when each day could be their last? How do I hold anguish and joy in my heart at once?

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