The Faces of Lostness

As I listen to the louder-than-normal call to prayer tonight and reflect on the day, I’m overwhelmed with one thing….lostness.

I use that term a lot, so maybe it becomes cliché.

But I hope not.

I hope I never become calloused to the depth and vastness of lostness in the world.

I saw many faces today. Faces of lostness. Faces of real people who have no hope. Real people who face the same things we all do—questions, fears, doubts, dreams, desires. People who need Christ above all. Here are some of the faces I saw today. Sorry, no pictures, but I was so weighed down that I couldn’t have brought myself to take pictures even if I did bring my camera.

A man sitting on a carpet on the side of the road. He wears his topi (hat) like any good Muslim would. His legs are literally bones wrapped in skin. I have never seen anyone that skinny in my life. I think he must have had polio or something like that. All I know is, it hits me like a sock to the stomach to look at him. I pray that God would make him walk, both physically and spiritually, but even more, I pray that one day he will leap in the presence of God.

A woman crying out unutterable noises. Her face deformed. Her eyes seem bloodshot but only because she has no eyelids or eyelashes. Her friend tries to console her and help her beg for money on one of the many corners of the market. I can’t take a second glance. The sock to my stomach is there again. I pray that she will see spiritual truths and crave that kind of sight even more than being healed of physical blindness.

A boy, about 10 years old. Dyed hair because that’s the cool thing to do if you’re a kid on the streets. He carries black plastic bags around the market, seeking shoppers who will pay him about a nickel to bag their goods for them. Curious, he follows the four of us white girls around for awhile. I smile at him, all the while wondering what his life is really like, what he thinks and feels, how he’s treated at home, if he goes to school, etc.

A group of high school girls in their school uniforms, enjoying a snack of cut up fruit they just bought from a fruit seller. All giggles and smiles, on the outside seeming like there’s not a care in the world. But on the inside, I know there is no hope. It breaks my heart. Who will tell them?

A pickpocket caught in the act. He's grabbed by the police. Tries to fight back, throwing punches at the police officers, to no avail. The police drag him off, while the gathering crowd looks on, wondering what exactly the police will do to him. Beat him? Torture him? Take him to jail?

Who will tell all these people the hope there is in Christ?

Every time I go to the market, I’m overwhelmed by the vastness of lostness that’s in that place. And that is a tiny, tiny piece of the tiny, tiny fraction of the world that is lost.

God, in this surrounding cloud of darkness, in this weight of lostness, please come light your fire in this place. Come find your lost sheep in this place. And in all the pockets of lostness in the world. Let your kingdom come HERE as it is in heaven. Let it come to these faces of lostness I saw today.