A cog in the machine

I have all the intention in the world of dropping into my grave exhausted, knowing that I have done everything I can, used every resource in my possession and every gift given me to spread the love of Christ to as many as I possibly can. When Christ hung on that cross, when He said "It is finished!" and breathed His last breath, He gave me everything, He gave me His life breath, and in return, I will give Him everything I have.
Sometimes, though, that just doesn't seem like enough. I know, rationally, that it is. I have everything I need to do what God has called me to do. But sometimes, my heart feels so heavy and I think: "Lord! Who is going to reach the rest of them? Who is going to do what I can't do?" I know I am only a tiny cog in a massive machine. Right now, my role is that of Jason's wife, James and Gabby's mother, friend to several. My main outreach is through CITP and the need there is HUGE! I know that I am exactly where I need to be. And yet...
Who is going to go to South Ninth and show the prostitutes and the junkies what true love looks like? I can't. I don't know how. I do not have the experience, or honestly the calling to be effective there. It is a world I know nothing of, but when I think of the broken lives there, of the pain and emptiness that abound, when I hear of missing people and wonder if they are caught up in that world, I weep, but what can I do? Nothing. That is not my calling. Well, I shouldn't say nothing. I pray. I pray and I weep with my Savior because I know that He too sheds many a tear over South Ninth.
And then there are the street kids. How my heart aches for them! How I wish I could open my home, pull each and every one into my arms, and show them what a real, loving family looks like, but I can't. I never liked teens. Even when I was a teen, I didn't like teens. For some reason, as a group, they make me very uncomfortable. But lately, my heart breaks for the young gang members who get sucked into that life because they craving a place to belong! That is NOT right! Where are their parents? How can they neglect their children to that point? Why do children have to go through the terrible things these kids go through and then perpetuate on others? Why? Why? Why? What can I do? Nothing. Well, that is not true. I can love on the teens I know. I can hug the ones I see once or twice a week. I can make a difference in the lives that I come in contact with and pray for a domino effect, that the love they receive from me will be transferred on down the line. And I can pray that God will send out workers into a field I cannot, at least at this time, go to.
And what about the kids, the young ones, the ones who crave love and affection and have not yet reached the bitter stage, but are SO close? What about them? What about the little boy in Gabby's class who talks about killing himself, who hits himself repeatedly and then talks about the zombie games he plays at home? What about him and the hundreds of other children out there who just want to be loved, but there is nothing I can do?! I hate that feeling! I hate standing back and watching and hurting and praying and then sending the child back to a home where love is obviously lacking.
"Come to me, all you who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest." Matthew 11:28. I haven't even touched on the hundreds of other areas where people are hurting, the mentally ill, families of terminally ill children, abuse survivors, starving people overseas, persecuted Christians, families of inmates, and on and on and on. When the burden becomes this intense, I am thankful for a Savior Who knows my pain and so much more. I am thankful for a Brother who wept over Jerusalem. I am thankful for the fact that I am merely a cog in the machine and that it is not my responsibility to save the world.
So today I weep and I pray. I pray for the faceless throngs of humanity in pain. And then I pray for those who do have faces, because them I can touch, and I get back to work.