There must be something about that chair. People sit on it and they start talking about practically anything. Anything they feel like saying. Or asking. I realize that people basically never run out of the need to be heard, and the need to ask questions. Not to a computer screen but to a living, breathing, feeling human.
The more I listen (and read – tweets, fb status posts, blogs), the more I discover that if you want influence, you have to love people though their long and winding trail of thoughts, their spiraling emotions, their erratic confidence, and unreasonable antics.
It is definitely one thing to pray, “God touch this generation,” and it is another thing to invest in touching a person’s heart. I am just beginning to understand that to love a generation means to be willing to love them one by one. One conversation at a time. One affirmation at a time. One rebuke. One pat. One embrace. One tear. One prayer. At a time.
I remember Lolo Romy from our Batangas outreach almost a year ago. We discussed and disagreed and agreed and gently wrestled in conversation in what seemed like an hour or more. That was how long it took to make him admit that he is a sinner and that the god that failed him is not the same god that I am sharing to him. Somewhere in the middle, I really wanted to give him up. But I could not. It was like God gripped my heart with this question: Do you think this one matters to me? If he does, then how could you dare let him go?
There must be something about that chair right. They just sit there and I try my best to listen. And through the course of not just an hour, but days and months, I learn to hold on to God’s love for them, until they realize their need for a Savior.