A few years back, I was preparing to share a message about the orphaned and fatherless with a missions organization. I was wrestling with the idea of giving this talk—not because I didn’t have things I wanted to say, but because I wanted it to be much more than me talking about “a moving issue.”
Truth is, when we hear about justice issues, emotions get stirred. And rightly so. We should stir over babies’ heartbeats being stopped in their mother’s wombs; over women and children trafficked into rings where bodies are cyclically raped and ravaged; over children removed from their families, by law, because they were starved, abused, and neglected.
In fact, God’s own emotions are stirred. He’s not stoic when He looks down at the little girl being trafficked as a slave or when the life He’s fashioning in the womb has a scheduled injection to end its life. The Father feels. And His emotions are perfect, holy and untainted.
But our emotions, unlike His, can sometimes go awry, becoming soiled with our own human ambition and pride. And here, hidden behind our well-intended zeal, lies our potential pitfall.
We want to fight. We want to change things. We want to make a difference.
And, because it is the tendency of all men to move in their own strength, we often do. And thus, we neglect to ask God to move in His.
The Lord is looking for far more than a justice movement fueled by man’s anger and fervor against the wrong.
Many across the earth are championing groups who are lifting up their voices and shaking their fists at the injustices that have come against our children. Believers and unbelievers alike are speaking out against human trafficking, are building homes and schools for the poor, are adopting the orphaned.
But if Jesus is not at the core of our move, is it truly justice?
What really makes Christians who care for the afflicted and the orphaned different from those outside the church who do the same?
With these thoughts pressing on my heart, I prepared to share with this group of young twenty-somethings. I knew I could show pictures of cute kids and tell sad stories. But that wasn’t enough. God wanted something deeper. Something that went beyond stirring up mere sentiment.
After talking with my husband, we decided to shorten my talk with this group and instead devote a portion of the time to prayer. And to my surprise, the leadership of the ministry, not knowing of my intended plans, asked me to do just that: They asked me to lead a prayer meeting.
Janet Perez Eckles 
Shawn Akers 
Abby Trivett 
