Who has your heart?

It was in a youth service where she met Him. He was invited into her heart and she returned it to Him. He made a promise to never leave her nor forsake her. He showed her His love would be everything she would ever want or need. He would never hurt her, never disrespect her. He was an absolute gentleman and He protected her heart. He was God.

One day, she gently approaches God and says, “Lord, I would like to have my heart back.” God looks at her and says, “Be patient, I want you heart a little while longer.”

Another day, she approaches God again and says, “Lord, I would like to have my heart back.” God looks at her kindly and says, “Be patient. Don’t be so eager to give your heart away.” Reluctantly, she walks away.

Years pass and she approaches God one last time. “God, I cannot wait anymore. Don’t worry Lord; I know what I am doing. Can I have my heart back?” God, being the perfect gentleman, grants her wish and gives her back her heart.

Soon, she meets Mr. Right. Mr. Right says all the perfect things and paints a pretty picture. She gives him her heart, and he says he will take care of her and be everything she ever wanted. Eventually, Mr. Right turns into Mr. Wrong. And in the end, Mr. Wrong tosses her heart to the ground and walks away.

She painfully picks up her heart and does her best to wipe off the dirt, but the stains are permanent.

She finds another guy who sincerely tries to take care of her heart. Eventually, he abandons it in exchange for another. He places her heart on the ground and walks away.

Her heart is hurt and more stains are visible. She once again picks up her heart.

She finds another who says he’s different from every guy she has ever met. He is charming, smart and very smooth. Eventually, she trusts him and gives her heart to him. They share an intimate moment and he looks at her. He was satisfied. He got what he wanted, and he places her abused heart on the pillow and walks away.

This time, she takes her heart and holds it close. There are more missing pieces and her heart is now torn. She cries herself to sleep.

She finds another guy who never had an interest in her heart in the first place. She knew this, but she exposed her heart to him anyway. Even though she didn't exactly give her heart to him, the exposure still caused it damage.

She holds what is left of her heart and cries, wondering if she can ever give her heart away to someone who won’t abuse it.

She finds another guy who willingly holds her heart. He helps her mend it, but he is selfish and knows he cannot keep it. His patience wears thin and he gives her heart back to her worse than when he first received it. He had no real intentions to hurt her or use her, he just did.

She cries because there is not much left of her heart to give away. Her heart is now dirty, abused, neglected, and no longer looks like a heart. It is a pile of pieces and remnants of something that was once pure and whole.

In a final desperate attempt, she tries to give her heart to a friend. He cares for her but doesn’t want her heart enough for her to heal. She still tries to give her heart away because she is missing something. He gently hands her back her heart, and it slips from her hands and onto the floor.

Her heart cannot be broken more than it already is. “Who would ever want my heart”, she thinks to herself. She tries to heal her heart herself (relationship books, empowerment statements, “toughing it out”). But nothing works.

She looks at what is left in her hand and cries then walks into church finding a lone pew. She sobs, letting her tears fall on what is left of her heart.

God approaches her and whispers, “I love you.” By now, the tears are flowing in a steady stream. She has heard those words before, but something is different this time. He asks her for her heart. She holds it closer to herself and tells God she can’t because there is nothing left to offer.

God kneels down in front of her and looks her in her eyes. “You gave me your heart at one time when you knew I was everything. I have a perfect plan in place for your life, yet you became impatient and you thought you knew what was best. I saw you pick up your heart every time it was broken. I was ready to take your broken heart then, but you wouldn’t give it to me. I am perfect in all My ways. Please trust me. May I have your heart?”

In shame, she bows her head. She stretches her cupped hands to expose what is left. In a rush of guilt, grief, and despair, she says, “Here is my heart. This is what is left. The other pieces were torn away a long time ago. I’m sorry, Lord! I wish I could give you more! Instead, I am giving you something that is tattered and broken.”

God wipes her tears and tells her not to cry. Then He tenderly says, “Do you not remember? I am the mender of broken hearts."

                                                                                                                                       Inspired by a friend

                                                                                                                                                                             

Jon

I was assigned to work an area that was known for “Night Zombies” (a “Night Zombie” is a crack addict). They would come out at night so high that they would walk with a strange gait along the street.

I befriended some of the “Night Zombies” in the area and learned their stories. We had a mutual respect for each other and we each knew our place. It was their job to hide the dope and it was my job to find it. As long as they had enough respect to hide what they were doing it would be “all good”. One night, I caught a “Night Zombie” with a crack pipe on a subject stop and I asked her where she bought her crack. She willingly gave me the information in exchange for a pardon. I agreed to her terms, and this is how I met Jon.

Jon was 17 when I first met him. He was the typical white kid who thought he was black: he was trying to be something he was not. He was raised in a nice area of town and had a good family. Unfortunately, Jon was drawn to the thug lifestyle, the money and the power that came with it. He had gotten a girl pregnant and they lived in a dilapidated house on the West Side. The West Side was known for crack sales. And Jon was a crack dealer; well, not really. He was portraying to the world something he was not supposed to be.

Jon became a thorn in my side. If there was a shooting, robbery, or beating, he was some how involved. I lost count the number of times he would run into his home upon seeing me and lock the door. One day I saw his fiancé standing outside their home and I spoke to her. I gave her a warning, informing her that I knew Jon was selling crack from his home. I told her about the possibility of CPS taking their child if he did not stop and she agreed. I then met their son. He was a beautiful baby, a perfect mix of a white dad and black mother. The baby had a smile that would make your heart melt. I told her to warn Jon that he would soon get “caught up.”

Another day, I arrested a parolee who had bought crack from Jon and I notified the narcotics detectives. The undercover detectives started to watch Jon’s residence. Eventually, Jon’s luck ran dry and he was arrested for crack sales. He was booked at Juvenile Hall.

I had also booked another juvenile on an unrelated case and I saw Jon seated nearby in a quiet room. I asked the custodians if I could talk to him. After some small talk, we talked about his baby. I told him his baby had a beautiful smile and he agreed. I told Jon he was better than just being a crack dealer or a “wanna be thug.”  I told him that I saw his potential. Jon listened to what I had to say with tears in his eyes. I told Jon that if he did not change his life, he would either spend it in jail or in a coffin. Either way, his baby would become another statistic of a child without a father.

I told Jon about God’s love for him and I even invited him to church. He was familiar with the church and lived within walking distance. He told me that he would change his life for the sake of his fiancé and his child.

Fast forward almost two years. Jon had not changed his lifestyle. He continued to hide his true potential behind sales of crack. On the West Side, the robberies, shootings, and the beatings continued.

I was dispatched to a shooting at a party in the North Side. Seated on the ground were approximately 20 party goers, and, of course, they did not see or hear anything. I then heard a voice I recognized. It was the voice of Jon. Several people laughed at him because I knew who he was. I asked to speak to him privately.

I asked him how he was doing and he said he was good. He said his fiancé and child were also doing well. I could see Jon was still living the thug lifestyle. Jon laughed when I pointed out he had yellow teeth. Again, he was hiding, this time behind a pair of gold “Grillz.” I reminded Jon that he was better than the lifestyle he was living. I told him that he had potential and he could live a better life if he chose to. Jon said he appreciated me talking to him and he remembered the church I attended. I warned him to be careful and not get “caught up.” Even if he did not see his potential, I did and so did God.

How many people have approached you and said you had potential? Sometimes we look at ourselves and we can’t see our potential. Fortunately, other people can see things that we can’t see. What does God see in us that we can’t see?

Without God we are nothing. That’s a no-brainer. But when everyone else thinks you are nothing, He sees potential in us that no one sees. God will change us and use us to become someone better because He sees something in us. Imagine if God never saw our potential and we were just cast to the side. What kind of life would you and I live?

Imagine if Jesus saw only what everyone else saw. Take Peter for example. He was a crude fisherman. He was not known for his oratory skills, but he was the first to proclaim the Acts 2:38 message. Look at Paul: he was a murder of the Jews. God saw his potential and transformed him to be one of His greatest disciples. What is the common denominator between the two? God looked past what was on the outside, beyond what they and others thought they should be, and saw something greater.

Our life is a reflection of what we think we want to be and sometimes what we did not intend to become. We see ourselves and see nothing. Sometimes it takes an outsider to tell you that you need to change. Sometimes it takes an Outsider to tell you that you have potential.

If someone sees potential in you, your life can be transformed, but you have to be willing to make the transformation. Sometimes it takes faith. I saw potential in Jon and he knew he could change. I told him he would become a better person and a better father. Sadly, neither I nor he will ever know his potential. Jon was shot and killed at a party on January 29, 2011. He was 19.