Thank you. That reminds me of when I was about 23 and was working at hotel. The PR Events Manager was 30-something pretty woman who dragged in a boyfriend once; I'll call her Tracy. We were very casually friendly. The hotel owner/manager pointed out to me that she had been coming in having been drinking. I hadn't noticed the drinking, but I had noticed, in some way, inner tribulation. When she came by, I told her if she ever needed to talk, I was there for her. She was surprised in a very good way. She thanked me and gave me a hug. It was weird for me, I really had no words beyond that, so I said nothing else. I wish I had given her my phone number on a piece of paper.
Within the week she was dead. I think my manager told me she drove into a lake or river and was drowned. Not that how I feel afterwards is the most important thing, but it is most certainly important. I felt some peace that I reached out to her. That was important. There had been others I didn't say anything to, who committed suicide, and I was decided I wasn't going to stay silent. I don't know what other things transpired after I said what I said, nor the specifics of her death. What I said may have been a part of a series of events that led her christ. We don't have the whole picture. We just have to abide in the Lord and be decided we will reach out.
It's always best that we try to say or do something...assuming that we know what's actually going on, that is.
I'll share something that happened between me and my younger sister (I'm number 8 out of 9, and she's number 9 out of 9).
About 30 years ago, my sister wound up in a mental hospital for a while. There were several different reasons why, but that's not really the focus of what I'm about to tell you. At that time, I was the only Christian in my family, and my other family members, especially my siblings, weren't (and still aren't) fond of either Christ or me (to say the least). Anyhow, they all told me not to go visit my sister in the hospital. In fact, they told me that if I did, then she would kill herself, and her blood would be upon me.
Well, that was their assessment of the situation, but it certainly wasn't God's assessment. God clearly spoke to me, and said the following:
"Go and tell your sister that she's selfish, and that she's consumed in self-pity, and if she doesn't repent, then this will end in self-destruction or suicide".
Now, that may seem exceedingly harsh to you or others reading this, but if you knew my sister, then you would know that that truly was the voice of God.
Well, I didn't want to go and tell her that. I've always responded IMMEDIATELY to whatever the Lord has instructed me to do (including repenting of my own sins), but this was one of only two times that I can think of that I didn't respond to the Lord's instruction immediately.
What happened?
Well, let's just say that God wrestled with me for about 8 days straight (and he's a lot stronger than I am) until I finally conceded and obeyed him. His last way of dealing with me before I finally obeyed was the following:
One of my other sisters needed a baby-sitter for her two daughters during this timeframe, and I volunteered. Seeing how it was close to Christmas, my sister bought a gingerbread house kit for her two daughters and me to assemble. Well, the instructions told us to put vanilla frosting on the four edges of the sides of the gingerbread house and to stick them together. We were then instructed to get four soup cans (or any other cans) to support the sides of the house for 1 hour until they dried and hardened, and then we were to move on the next step of adding the roof to the house. Well, we waited 1 hour, removed the soup cans that were supporting the sides, and added the roof...and the whole thing collapsed shortly thereafter. We repeated the same steps two more times, and both times the house collapsed as soon as the roof was added.
At that point in time, the Lord spoke to me, clear as day, and said the following (I'm paraphrasing):
"This gingerbread house represents exactly what your family members are doing with your sister. They're speaking to her soft and sweet words, like the vanilla frosting, but the frosting doesn't have the temperance to hold the house together. Furthermore, like the soup cans, they're providing support to hold your sister up, but as soon as that support is removed and any weight is added to her life (like the roof of the gingerbread house), she is going to fall apart. Now, go and tell her what I told you to tell her."
Well, by the time that I finally obeyed, my sister was out of the mental hospital and back in her own home. I went to her house, and I told her what God told me to tell her. She threw me out of her house (she also threw me out of her car on the highway about 60 miles away from my home on another occasion), but she's still alive today.
The moral of the story is that sometimes people need a "hard" word. Cement isn't anywhere near as palatable as vanilla frosting, but which would you rather have supporting your house?
Anyhow, when I finally obeyed God, he stopped wrestling with me.