You say you want your heart to break for what breaks His. Could you handle that pain, that constant ache? He cries for the ones who disgust you, the ones you walk by on the other side of the street. He longs for the ones you don’t think are worth your time, the ones you reject. His heart breaks for every abandoned girl, every aborted baby, every lonely heart.
You say you wanna be like
Jesus. Are you sure? He hung out with sinners: liars, thieves,
prostitutes, hypocrites. He loved the
ones everyone else hated.
The lepers thought He would keep His distance. He healed them with a single touch. The religious leaders thought He would appreciate
their “righteousness.” He appreciated
the ones who knew they didn’t deserve His attention.
He smashed expectations to
bits. He pieced broken hearts back
together. He was loved by a few, hated
by many. His own town, the people He
grew up with, rejected Him. His parents
didn’t understand Him. The very crowd
who cried, “Hosanna” shouted, “Crucify Him!”
You say you wanna live like Jesus. Do you realize He died?