In Search for Something Real

I sat at a table surrounded with eight kindergarteners today. I love this time of my day: being surrounded by innocence and giggles, wonder and awe. Today was no different. As I sat helping my charge, the sweetest girl with autism, I listened in on the conversation taking place between two “typical” boys. The conversation:

Oh my God!
Don’t say, oh my…you know
Why not?
Because it’s a bad word.
What if I say oh my Jesus, would that be OK?
No.
How come?
Cause we should talk nicely about Him. He is special.
Hmmm. I wonder who my Jesus will be when I grow up?

Interrupted at the worst possible moment, the teacher summoned the kids to the front of the room for the next lesson. I wondered what the little boy would have said. What would I have said if I were this boy?

My mind has sifted through several of my own conversations within the last week; with the Christian turned agnostic, the Baptist turned Jehovah Witness, and the Shaman. Unsolicited, random and without knowing what personal truths I treasure in my heart, each of these people openly shared portions of their story with me. As I listened, I found myself wondering what made them decide on that specific religion or belief. When asked, not one of them paused for thought. Each said they were looking for something ... something real, something that would make them whole. They were in search of a Savior. They faced, as we all have, the question the five year old asked: Who will be my Jesus?

For us who are in relationship with the One true God, we scoff at first, thinking these people are so far off base, that perhaps they have been brain-washed. Maybe we write them off as a lost cause. But as I listened to their stories, I saw the pain in their eyes and heard sorrow in their words… real life, real pain. I found myself hurting for them, for the brutal journey they have taken to seek out a savior, a savior that will not save them. They grasped the first thing that sounded like hope. My heart breaks for them as I know they will not find contentment where they call their spiritual home. I weep as I know I have the answer and find I’m not sure how to go about sharing it with them in a way that will impact them for eternity.

I am haunted by the five year olds question. It is a question that leads people to believe there is more than one choice in Saviors. It is a question that leads to either great pain or great fulfillment. I pray that the Holy Spirit gives me the words to answer the unasked questions of these women He undoubtedly has brought into my life!