Friday mornings are my favourite. Not because the weekend is looming but because I get to share the morning with a group of boys that I have grown to love.
These guys are young on the outside. They are old on the inside. They have been through more than most experience in a lifetime. They are ten years old. And they are amazing.
This morning one of my boys was having a rough day. He was on the verge of tears all morning, but he didn't want to talk about it. I asked if I could pray for him. He said yes. When I finished praying, tears were streaming down his face. I hugged him. I told him how much I care about him. And I ache for him. It's hardly enough; it won't change his circumstances or ease his pain. But maybe - in that brief moment - he knew that he wasn't alone. There was someone there to acknowledge his pain and suffering.
Who am I to touch another's life - I with my own problems, issues and hang-ups? I only know that we are all on a journey. If that journey moves towards knowing Jesus and true Love, so much the better. I don't have all the answers; I really don't. But I know how to hold your hand. I know how to cry with you. And I know how to walk, putting one foot in front of the other.
And maybe that's all it takes.