My Lowest Point

A few years back my brother-in-law got married. Much to my surprise and delight, he asked me if I would be his best man. I gladly accepted the honour and, as any best man should do, began to plan his stag. Since I am still relatively new here and your opinions of myself have not yet been tainted, I will exclude the details of the stag for this post and instead focus in on an experience I had while running it. Stick around long enough and I may expand on the stag latter.

Mark, my brother-in-law, had a unique group of friends. The "Barrie boy's", as I love to call them, loved a good party and a good brew. We were having a bbq in the park to start off our festivities and each attendee was to bring their own meat to cook. When Mark's friends all arrived, each with a large cooler in hand, I thought that they understood the message and that the party was off to a good start. To my utter amazement there was not a single piece of food in any of the coolers and I soon figured out that this may be a long night. After some Bocci ball and some hamburgers, thanks to a quick Dominion run, the festivities could now begin. Things picked up very quickly after I pulled out the sailors suit two sizes too small that Mark was to wear and I began to lead my newly devoted Barrie boy's on a mission filled with laughter and humiliation.

Along the way, during one of our many stops, we arrived at the water front. The boy's were now fully worked up and anticipating the next stage in the night. As we passed the water a certain scene caught my eye. Sitting on a bench was a young girl, probably sixteen or seventeen years old, crying. Her slow cry soon developed into wailing. The boy's took little notice since they were focused on getting to the next humiliating activity. For myself however, I could not look away. I was faced with a difficult decision. I had an obligation as best man to see this stage through, but I also had an obligation as a follower of Christ to reach out to the hurting. I was at a fork in the road. I looked for a little longer as others passed by this young girl without so much as a glance and then I too walked by without a word.

I can still see this girl sobbing on the bench in my mind. She now lives in my memory as a reminder of what it feels like to see Jesus, and walk away. I wish I could take it back. I desperately wish I could take it back; but I can't. This was by far the lowest point in my Christian life, but also one of the most significant. I have made a promise to myself and to Jesus, that if I ever see that girl again, I will stop and ask such a simple question; "why are you crying?" The second question I will ask is "can I help?"

As believers we walk the streets of this city with our heads down. We are convinced that if we don't see it, it is not there. We are like a child hiding under her blankets believing if she does not see the monster in her closet it can't hurt her. The time to stop pretending is over. James 1:22 Say's "Do not merely listen to the word, and so deceive yourselves. Do what it says." The Word of God says that we are to look after those who are hurting, that we are to help the widows and the orphans and that if we do not act, our faith is dead. The time for pew sitting passer bye's is over. The time for a kingdom revolution is now.

Rob