But I realized that the Kingdom was drawing us to the scene of the crisis.
We drove forward and my heart began racing. I pictured myself parking my car and bringing gospel-centered prayers to the victims and speaking the power of the cross into their despair. I began praying out loud so my kids would engage with the situation, even though their eyes couldn't see over the sides of the doors and through the windows. When their sight isn't "high" enough to see or understand, I still draw them into the situation so they encounter Kingdom. We prophesied to the injury, internal bleeding, and mental states of those involved and we took Blood-centered authority over the situation.
We arrived at the scene to find that there were no victims, probably removed by ambulance, and the only remnants were deployed air bags and broken metal & plastic on the road. I was slightly disappointed we couldn't stop but we continued praying and I asked Zoe if she knew the names of the hurt people. She responded with a confident "Laura. Jess." So we prayed for "Laura" and "Jess" and we'll know in eternity their real names. Or the real faces with the prophesied names.
In Matthew 9:36, Jesus looks at a crowd of people who were:
Even after healing and announcing the kingdom for days - weeks? months? - Jesus chose to see people and have a heart response to them. Isn't everyone in their own personal crisis? Isn't everyone hurting? Don't we live in a land of confusion and aimlessness? And aren't so many of today's people feeling faint and weary? We are living in a day of crisis and are called to bring Kingdom.
And so, we shepherd our children's hearts so they rush to crisis, and not despise it. We train our children to love people in their individual emergencies and enter with hearts of love. To tell them to run away or to model a life of comfort that avoids the problems or crisis of others - is to tell our children that the gospel is not true and that Jesus is insufficient.