God, where are you in these children's lives? I know you are loving, and I know you are powerful—but these children are suffering. Where are you?
The first time I prayed seeking God's presence amid sorrow was in East Saint Louis, Illinois, during the summer after my sophomore year of college. The young children I loved during the day went home to empty pantries, sometimes empty houses, and sometimes empty futures. I didn't understand how a powerful and loving God could permit children to be born into such poverty, while affluent, mostly white Christians lobbied the Illinois government to build roads around the impoverished, mostly black inner-city to not have to see them.
One night my image of the children during prayer—Little Fatso, Davion Bush, and others—turned into an image of Christ on the cross. God was saying, "I am here—amongst the hungry, tired, unparented, children with access to poor education, where is my church?"
That was a critical moment for my spiritual life, as I learned that God often lives just past the edges of our moral conscious. If we truly seek God, we must ask, "Who else matters?" and go to love them.
