The City of Crying People

      The city had been said to be one of  the most crime-infested cities in the United States. I gazed in wonder at the chaos ensuing around me. Impatient drivers honked their horns as they waited for the traffic to slow. A young mother held tightly onto her sons' hands has she made her way down the side of the highway. A gang of rowdy kids swaggered down a side street. A homeless man slept away a hangover, oblivious to the noise around him. Old, abandoned buildings, scribbled with graffiti, provided a hangout for gangs. An old, abandoned railroad car provided shelter for a homeless family. All these people going somewhere, why have I never cared that they may never know that they have a God who loves them? Why have I never cared that they may never know that He sent his Son to die that they might live? Why have I never cared that they may never know God's saving grace as I do? Why is it that we, who are to spread the news of God's love to those around us, never stop and listen to the cries of those people who we walk by every day?