Do you remember when we met? It was not under the best of circumstances for me.
Yet your generous heart moved you, despite my downtrodden state, to approach me. What’s more, you didn’t care about all the people who might see you and stare out their hate. You didn’t even care about the soldiers and their cruel iron. You were heroic dear woman, and I loved you for it. You came to me in the dirt and grime and pain that had become my skin. You came to me when my blood painted my face in little red rivers. You came to me when the weight of the world overcame even my strength. Even my strength, the strength of a god. And with your great tenderness you wiped my face, the face of a god.
Where have you been? I’ve sought you all over the world. I’ve needed you. You see my eyes in the crippled child begging for money. You see my humiliation when the homeless woman struggles with her bags, in her stench. You see my pain in the legless, armless victims of wartorn streets.
Where have you been? Will you come again with your great kindness, courage and heart of a lion?
Will any of you come and help a dying God?