Forgive me, Father God, for seeking shelter in the statistics, so that I might never have been obliged to know that somewhere in the middle of the Sudan, an abandoned child bowed down to You in starvation, waiting to become a vulture’s next meal. Help my unbelief, Friend and Brother Jesus Christ, when I doubt that you out of Love really descended into hell, which is here, in this picture- far away from what you would wish for this dearly loved child, or for me, in my indifference to the cries of this, your loved one. Lead me, Mother Spirit, from the parched land of despair in these dark places around the world and in my own life, to your banquet table of hope, where I might even now feed this child with my feeble prayers and the smallest of deeds on behalf of the “least of these” who cry out to you.  As you fill my stomach, make me hunger and thirst for Your righteousness.  In the strong, merciful name of Jesus, Amen.

“got hope?” This very personal meditation on suffering and the nature of Christian hope will be the concluding chapter of my forthcoming spiritual memoir, “Grace Sticks: The Bumper Sticker Gospel for Restless Souls.”