I was somewhere I did not recognize; it seemed like a third world country. I had gone into this small school for some reason, and the teacher, who was also the local priest or pastor, came over to talk to me. He shared about his community and how they were destitute and suffering.
All of a sudden my wife and I were in a room with a bunch of ladies trying to sell us something. One of these women presented us with a bill for $58 for something we had not even thought about buying. We saw the scam and refused to pay, getting up and leaving in a huff.
In the dream, I walked outside into the street and looked around at all the poverty of the place. The thought hit me, and, indeed stayed with me as I woke up, what could I do to help these people? What was my responsibility to those that I saw in need? How could I even begin to help those masses of needy, in my dream place, or anywhere for that matter?
As I sat and thought and prayed, I looked over and saw a letter on my table, one that had come a few days back from an inmate in one of our Georgia prisons. Even though I knew the individual, I had not responded. We had corresponded occasionally over the years since I had met him, but we were not close.
He told about his life there behind bars, his attempts at getting a new trial, and his families' shunning of him in his situation. In reality, I guess he was just looking for someone to care.
And there the letter sat, unanswered.
It was as if God had moved my eyes toward that spot on my table. Sure there were masses of people around the world that had needs, but here was a man that was right in my face, and I did not respond. All I needed to do was look around, even sitting in my condo, on my couch. there he was.
There are times when the masses of needs out there can paralyze us into inaction on the ones we can minister to in some way. I just needed to see what was right in my path and respond.
Any inmates on your path?
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