We see other people and think, they are okay! things are fine! But there are cracks everywhere. Cracks in the system. In cities and neighborhoods and homes. Cracks in places there should be no cracks––in families and churches. People fall into these cracks, into the bottomless pit of brokenness, and the problem is that they don’t look any different. You never really know unless you stop and listen, unless you are intentional about seeking them out, loving on them, inviting them into your life.
What a travesty! That people keep falling and falling and falling because we are unwilling to stop and say, I love you. There’s a God exist that loves you. Come! Come with me! Let’s live life together!
The gospel is that important, isn’t it? Important enough that we would abandon everything if it meant transmitting the Gospel like some plague all the way around the world, like some terminal disease that people catch and it swallows them up? Shouldn’t we be willing to abandon everything if it meant those people––the people falling into the cracks––if it meant them finally understanding the Gospel because we stopped and said something, because we stopped and said come on! come on!
As I filmed Daisy telling her story, I wondered how someone could fall so deeply without being seen, without being noticed, without someone stopping and saying, come on, come on!
People say, we can only do so much! we can only go so far! I say, do more! Go further! Love harder! Be more graceful and merciful! If it means someone hears the gospel and believes, do whatever it takes! Give up everything! If it means keeping someone from falling into the never ending holes of society, move mountains, start fundraisers, sell your car and buy a cheaper one and use the leftover money, do whatever––and here’s why; because people matter more. More than the material world. More than our possessions and our jobs and our cars and houses.
After making Daisy’s film, I spent the week with her and her boyfriend. We ate a lot of food and laughed a lot. We talked about Jesus and how difficult life was. We ate some more and we talked about our dreams and they told me they wanted to move to Tennessee.
I did nothing special. I am nothing special. There is no system I followed. There is no bible study I taught. I do not have a degree in counseling. I just love people. I go looking for them on street corners and in the woods and I love them and I share the Gospel with them and I pray with them and sometimes they believe and it changes them, and sometimes they don’t––but that doesn’t change anything for me. I keep going, keep preaching, keep praying, keep giving, because I know there is a bottom. And when they hit that bottom, I want to be there. I want to be standing there so I can hold them and cry with them and then together we can talk about Jesus.
I want to meet people at the bottom.
The bottom is dirty. Terrifying. It’s prostitution. It’s drugs. It’s addicts. It’s gritting teeth. It’s busted knees. It’s broken needles and cut wrist and murder and hate and it may be in jail on the other end of some terrible, terrible crime. It’s dirty hotels. It’s STDs and rape and disgusting. But it’s where many people end up, and it’s where many are forgotten.
It’s where we should be standing. It’s where the Harvest is.