Another young man waited patiently for us to finish up a conversation. He was a brawny guy, looked like he could hold his own, but he sat there timidly until we were available to talk. He told us that he used to be a bouncer in a strip club, and that job led to him participating in adult films. He admitted he had been completely desensitized to the intimacy that is supposed to be involved in sex. Then he looked at me and with one tear running down his face he asked, "With my past, how is anybody going to love me?" We were there to hold out hope to him.
After one particular weekend of ministry, we were packing up the car getting ready to pull out. As I was putting our bin in the trunk, another young man walked up to us. Perhaps he didn't want anyone to see him talking to us inside the church for fear of people wondering what his motives were in approaching us. He apologized for interrupting our departure, but I assured him we were there for him. And he began to tell us his complicated story. We listened, encouraged, held out hope, and prayed with him.
And these individuals represent people who sit in churches all over our country. On the outside, everything looks normal, but behind the scenes is a story that no one would fathom. That's why we do what we do. We share our story of brokenness and healing so that others will know there is hope. Our details may be different, but our God is the same and His healing is available to all His hurting children.
If anything is taken away from a sermon, a seminar, or a one on one conversation, we want it to be the message that there is hope. We are living proof. So, we don't do altar calls, but a lot still gets accomplished whether it's inside the building or out in the parking lot.
There is hope.