Praying for the city

Just recently, Anakarina participated in a Girl Scout hike up Ancon hill, the hill just to the west of the city that gives you a great panoramic vista of the city skyline.

I love going up the hill, not only to see the city, but to pray for it.

When Jesus saw the crowds, his heart broke. Matthew 9:36 reads

When he saw the crowds, he had compassion on them, because they were harassed and helpless, like sheep without a shepherd.

He had compassion on them.

To put it another way, he felt compassion for them.

I can imagine the heart of Christ that day on that hillside – pondering the injustice, the poverty, the lostness, the brokenness, the misery of human need, and their separation from God.

But also seeing not just a plural collective “them” but individuals with names, dreams, and families.

I can imagine the compassionate emotions swirling like in His heart like the foamy rapids of a river .

He felt it.

What happens when you pray for where you live and minister?

Sometimes my heart breaks with the compassion that might have been similar to what Jesus felt.

I imagine the crowds that steel skyscrapers and slum shacks on a muddy hillside represent – individuals who need Christ.

My heart breaks at times.

I imagine

the poor who try to make a living in a gang infested neighborhood where they might be killed by accident,
the laborers who work for minimum wage in dangerous unsafe occupations,
the injustices committed underhandedly,
the extortion and bribery that gets things done,
the pickpockets who steal just to get some food.

Not just for the collective crowd, but individuals.

I think of the toothless amputee, with swollen knobby fingers on his remaining hand. He stopped me at a traffic intersection. He used his teeth to hold the clean styrofoam cup while he maneuvered his one-legged body on crutches next to my car. His swollen hand stuck that cup in my car window, begging for a donation of some kind.

I give him what I have, but drive away in tears. I wish I could do more to help.

I remember the orphan who’s parents were murdered, and who had been a victim of human trafficking.

I remember the 7 year old who murdered a shop keeper.

I remember the first hand stories of gang rape and sexual abuse.

I remember seeing people eat with bare hands out of dumpsters and torn trash bags behind restaurants.

Feel the heart of God

I weep over my city. I feel for my city. I’ve seen brokenness that I wish I had never seen.

I sometimes spontaneously pray in desperation, “Lord send me to reach them. Send me.”

I touch the heart of God.

The heart of evangelism is to connect with the heart of God.

Ask the Lord to share His heart for the city / town / rural area in which you live.

Ask the Lord to grow your sensitivity to His compassion.

Praying for the city