The other night, Brent and I got to go on a date, since the kiddos where happily spending the night at “Grandma and Grandpa’s house.” By the way,  I’m so thankful for parents who really do love and enjoy spending time with their grandkids. I heard some parents prefer their own quiet, busy lives. I’m so glad ours don’t.

Anyways, as we sat there at the restaurant, and got to know the waitress in between her bringing us heaping warm plates of food and refilling our drinks, I couldn’t help but love her and want to know her story. So, I asked her questions and she told me bits and pieces in spurts. Then, when Brent got up to go to the restroom, I asked her if there was anything I could pray for her about, because Jesus lives inside me and I could feel Him loving her and I wanted her to know He cared. She stood right there and cried.

Then she told me about how her husband died a couple years ago and she pulled out his picture and handed it to me at the table and walked away. She very much wanted me to pray because she just ached for God to keep her best friend safe.

So, Brent and I asked God to comfort and help her and when we left, I hugged her, and I hoped that she would feel her Maker’s love coming from my very skin. Because this is what God has been teaching me lately–He aims to hand out hope and heal the world, but the thing of it is, He uses our hands and our feet.

So, I’ve got to be attentive to the needs, and to look full in the face of the folks God has put right in front of me. When Jesus walked the earth, He didn’t pass by the messy and the wailing. He walked right up to them. People kept trying to put Him on a pedestal and get Him to do “important” things, but He just kept going to His knees, stooping low to wash the grime off His disciples stinky, dirty feet.

The other night, we saw a lady on the sidewalk with a bloody nose. The man with her had walked away and she stood there trying to hide her face. I grabbed some tissues from the car and ran to give them to her, because I didn’t know what to do, but I had to give her something. Because Jesus lives inside me and when I pray for people, He keeps saying, “Now, you go. You go. You be My hands and feet.”

Now, I don’t normally like to inconvenience myself or come across as a socially awkward weirdo, but God has the audacity to tell His children to do the most uncomfortable things. And the more He fills up my heart with His love, the more I feel compelled to be the one to meet the needs.

So, I think of this at home when my little people are yelling in the backseat. When they’ve tromped dirt all through the kitchen and need someone to dust all the sand off their legs and wipe the snot from their cheeks. And I know God is fully capable of loving the whole entire world but there’s only one of me. So, I ask Him for grace to love the folks in my living room and the ones down the street. The ones on the sidewalk and in the coffee shop and at the grocery store and working the drive-through.

Because I’ve only got this one life and I keep begging God to show up and heal the world. We should probably be careful what we pray. It might surprise us to find that He wants us to be the answer to what we’re asking of Him.

I’ve got this ache to see all things made right, and I can feel God pressing in. He aims for me to live to show His love, right here where I can, in the most practical of ways. You go, Maggie. You go. Something on my insides gets me to moving toward the need. Or perhaps it’s Someone, compelling me to reach out and stoop down and walk slow and always lovingly aware. This is Jesus living inside of me.