Hear God’s Voice in the Cries of the Wounded

If you listen close, you can hear the faint voices of the disenchanted. The tears of God, falling on the hopeless. 

Abused children, beaten and bruised women, lonely prisoners, angry and ignored adolescents, crying for help, for love, behind closed doors. 

Can you hear them? Do you care? 

Life is easier when you train yourself to ignore the hopeless and helpless, to be certain. The only problem is, over a period of time, our hearts begin to harden. 

When my wife and I had only been married a few years, she could tell I was holding back part of my heart. I wasn’t giving my whole being to her, and she asked why. 

As a tear crawled down my cheek I said, “I’m afraid of losing you, baby. I guess I think if I hold back a little and don’t give my heart and soul, if I do lose you, it won’t hurt as bad.” 

She pulled me close and whispered, “But what kind of life is that? Isn’t it better to love with your entire heart, and then if something does happen to me, at least you’ll know you gave me your all?” 

As usual, she was right. 

We can no longer ignore the cries of the wounded. We have to give our whole heart and soul to this life. Only in total sacrifice will we achieve true happiness. 

I used to dream of money and fame, but over time I realized such frivolity fades like the night. I work for a Christian college, assisting prisoners in preparing for the ministry. My wife works for Convoy of Hope, helping to restore disenfranchised spirits the world over.

Do some of our friends and family make more money than us? “Abso-floggin’-lutely,” to quote Smee from “Hook.” 

But I’ve yet to find a couple happier than we are. We have found peace in giving ourselves fully to helping others. 

We seen “Hacksaw Ridge” today (which I highly recommend, by the way). Based on a true story, Desmond Doss joins the Army to be a medic in World War II.  At one point, in the midst of the hell that is war, he gives in to fatigue and disillusion, and begins to pray. 

“I don’t understand,” he cries. “I can’t hear you. Talk to me.” 

At that moment he hears a faint voice in the distance. 

“Help! Medic!” 

“Ok,” Desmond says, and goes to help the fallen soldier.

That’s when it hit me: God’s voice can be heard in the cries of the wounded. 

For those angry at God, demanding He talk to us, our hearts turning cold because we feel He is ignoring us, I’d like to put forth the proposition that, perhaps, He has been speaking to us all along.

In the whimpers of abused children. In the tears of rape victims. In the pain of the incarcerated. In the grumbling stomachs of starving children. In the shivering bones and rattling teeth of the cold and homeless. 

Just a thought. 

Blessings. 

“What is bruised and bent, he will not break; he will not blow out a smoldering candle. Rather, he will faithfully turn his attention to doing justice (Isaiah 42:3).”

“When someone is hurting or brokenhearted, the Lord moves in close and revives him in his pain (Psalm 34:18).”

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