Carry the Torch

It's 2020, and I don't think my prayer list has ever been longer. Sickness, unemployment, mental health, isolation, grief, and far too many people who have not yet come to know God as He is revealed to us in the Scriptures. 

If I can, for just a moment, talk about that last one. People have lots of ideas about God. The only truth about God, however, is found in the Bible. Great, you see Him in a sunrise, or you hear Him in the sweet coos of your tiny new grandchild. He is there, for sure; the Bible says that every good and perfect gift comes from God. Whether you know God or not, whether you choose to believe He exists, no matter what you think, if you've got something good, He gave it to you. And that's that. But if you're looking only at the places or things in which His goodness is revealed, you're not going to know Him -- all of Him. You have to read the Bible to know who He is, in His. Own. Words.

In the last few years, I have known the passing of several beautiful, sweet souls. And they were all very clear with regard to their dying wish: that people would come to know Jesus. Their family, their friends, their neighbors. One was hopeful her illness would bring her sister to her so she could share the Gospel with her. One had prayed and loved on her children for years, in hopes they would return to the God they knew as little ones. They had a profound desire that was focused on the Lord and His universally inclusive work on the cross, that those they loved and cared deeply for would know truth that sets the captive free.

This morning, I was praying for the folks the saints have left behind. As I prayed, I realized I had this idea of what should have happened: the prodigal weeping at their loved one's bedside, contrite and overcome by gratitude for their loved one's faithful petitions, turning to the Lord right then and there that the dying saint might pass on in peace. Very Hallmark. It didn't happen, and it's a scene that will never take place. Why, God, did You allow someone who prayed so persistently, who loved so much and so well, who spoke life to those they loved at every opportunity -- why did You allow that kind of godly influence to be withdrawn from the lives of others? And before I could think another thought, the answer came. It wasn't that He had allowed a saint to be removed and their loved ones to perish without knowing Him, but the goodness was in the fact saints were so public about their desires, there's no forgetting it. These saints had shared their hearts, making known to us all the very thing they wanted most -- whether they were around to see it, or they were in Glory -- for their loved one to know the Savior. And here I was, praying for people I've never met because of the testimony of those I have held dear. 

God is still working and believers are still interceding, and until it's over, it's not over. So, what is your heart's desire? Do you dare to hope your daughter and her husband will stop tearing one another apart and begin serving the Lord? Do you dare to pray in faith for your neighbor to turn from false religion and confess the King of kings? Make your requests known to the Lord, yes, but make your heart's desire known to other believers as well. Give them the opportunity, the privilege, the responsibility of carrying that torch, even after you are gone.