I’ve asked God to break my heart for the lost. He gave it to me, in the form of twin four month old babies.

This was not what I expected. Eh, not what I wanted. But, it is.

As I sit here writing this blog one of the babies is sleeping next to me. He’s smiling in his sleep. And farting…in his sleep. How do you NOT love a kid that does that?

I can’t keep thinking about the rough life these two babies are headed for. They will not grow up with a lot of money (hell, they’ll more than likely be on welfare most their life) and probably won’t grow up in a church. I don’t know if they’ll get to even hear of their Creator. Their real Father. And my heart is broken.

I look at their innocent faces and weep. I weep for their eternal future and I pray for them. The odds are stacked against them…big time. But I serve a powerful God and I’m not counting these two out for an eternal glory.

What these babies have done for me is renewed my motivation for evangelism. I need to speak with people more about who God is and why I serve Him. And I need to do this with people that are not in my comfort zone. People who have had their children taken away. People who aren’t what most would describe as good parents, good people. People who NEED Jesus.