1 These are the memoirs of Nehemiah son of Hacaliah.
In late autumn, in the month of Kislev, in the twentieth year of King Artaxerxes’ reign, I was at the fortress of Susa. 2 Hanani, one of my brothers, came to visit me with some other men who had just arrived from Judah. I asked them about the Jews who had returned there from captivity and about how things were going in Jerusalem.
3 They said to me, “Things are not going well for those who returned to the province of Judah. They are in great trouble and disgrace. The wall of Jerusalem has been torn down, and the gates have been destroyed by fire.”
4 When I heard this, I sat down and wept. In fact, for days I mourned, fasted, and prayed to the God of heaven.
Nehemiah 1:1-4
Dear God, the first time I remember reading these words was just over 23 years ago. They were actually life-changing for me. I saw something in Nehemiah that I didn’t see in myself at the time. I was a Christian. I loved you. I worshipped you. I loved my family. I studied scripture. But what you showed me in Nehemiah in these four verses was that I lacked compassion for others and a motivation to act on it. Sure, if someone I knew was having a hard time, I would reach out to them or try to comfort them. I remember in the summer five years earlier when my wife and I were generous to someone we came across with. So I wasn’t heartless or even selfish. But I still insulated myself in my safe middleclass world and didn’t really expose myself to other people’s pain. That’s what I heard you tell me. That I wasn’t really willing to touch other people’s pain. I threw that out in my prayer that day. That you would make me willing to touch other people’s pain.
You answered that prayer a few weeks later when a friend invited me to tour a nonprofit in South Waco called Talitha Koum. With that, you sent my entire life into a new direction. Now, 23 years later, I not only help underprivileged people as a vocation, but I also reach out and volunteer for other organizations to help people. I don’t say this to pump myself up or to make myself look good. I say it because, in the end, it’s what Jesus called us to do. We can’t just love you with all we have. We have to love our neighbors as ourselves. Why? Well, 1.) we are your Plan A for the world and there is no Plan B. And 2.) it is good for me to get out of my selfish tendencies and put, as Rotary International puts it, service above self.
Father, I’m going to be speaking at a church on Sunday, and I think I’m going to end up, basically, giving my testimony. Not of how I got “saved” and first came to faith in you, but how you and I have been working out my faith over the last 26 years (when I started doing these prayer journals). It’s been a slow process, but it’s been awesome. And you are patient with me. You are kind. You are loving. Thank you for meeting me here. Thank you for revealing my deficiencies to me 23 years ago. Thank you for continuing to reveal my deficiencies even up to today. I love you. I worship you. I give you my heart and soul.
I pray this in Jesus and with your Holy Spirit,
Amen
Emails to God 