As I looked over I caught his eyes. He was hunched just so in his front seat looking flippant and unaffected as he smoked his cigarette. His hair was slicked down and long, his face made up just so. His whole demeanor radiated indifference and boredom.
And yet...when I caught his eyes there was a look of incredible emptiness and brokenness. It seemed as if I could see whole depths of sadness, hopelessness and apathy all in that one glance.
This was the face of one transvestite working the streets of Athens.
It was only a moment, and yet on Thursday night as we met people on the streets this is the thing that sticks with me. His eyes. I wondered about them. I wondered what brought such pain and suffering into those eyes? I wondered what happens in the life of a friend to bring such sorrow and brokenness? What happened to bring him to this point?
And is there any way back? Is there any way to hope for one with such sorrow?
For a minute, I forgot about the power of His hope. I was drowing in the impossibility of coming out of such sorrow.
But as we returned from ministry to share our impressions with one another, I was calmed to hear with what passion the guys told of their outreach. I was reminded of hope. I was reminded that transformation is just what His hope brings. And that God has brought others from pain and sorrow to wholeness of spirit.
And I pray that no longer will these eyes be filled with such bottomless sorrow.
"...to bind up the brokenhearted..." Isaiah 42:6-9