This is Where I'm Called...

3:16 AM

The phone is ringing.

I jump awake, looking at the clock, and it hits me.

Dread. Fear. Anxiety.

"God, help me."

There's only a few reasons why the phone rings at 3:16 AM.

The voice I hear confirms my fears. Pain and sorrow come pouring through the earpiece. As real as the tears being shed on the other side of the line. As real as the tears which begin to stream down my face.

One of my youth is in the hospital. They have tried to take their life. We don't know how serious it is. Their family needs help.

This is the reality of my job. The pain our world's teenagers face everyday is making them question whether life is worth living. And it's not just the odd one or two that are asking these questions. It's the vast majority. Trust me, I have the 'privilege' of bearing this burden.

Why?!?

"Why does it have to be like this? Why does it hurt so much?" I pound the carpeted floor as I pray early this morning. "God, why do you let this happen? Don't you care about us? Why do you let us hurt so much? I thought you loved us?! Are you even there?!! Please help!!!"

I thank God I am able to cry out to Him. Our hurting world, and even many Christians, don't know how to cry out to God. They often have no one to cry out to. They take their cries to a bottle of pills. They're not intended to be that type of pain reliever.

This is a reality for so many of today's teenagers. No one will understand. No one can feel what I feel. It hurts so much. Why bother?

I get to help hurting teens. This is both a privilege and a burden. So painful, but so necessary. I thank God He has asked me to do this. I thank God He helps me do this.

This is my life. This is where I'm called.