Looking outward

It's my opinion that as Christians we should be looking out more than we look in.  We have to connect with the world around us- the world of people outside the Church, who don't share our beliefs.  So I've always tried to make sure I don't get so caught up in church stuff that I loose all meaningful contact with those outside the church.  At the moment I'm fortunate enough to have some great friends, most of whom don't share my beliefs.  But sometimes I struggle because the assurances I have about my Christian friends just aren't there for my friends who aren't Christians.

This is something that's struck me over the last few days through WordLive readings.  Today's was about grieving.  For a Christian who believes that death is not the end, illness and death, though still unpleasant because of the pain and sense of loss, aren't quite as fearful as they could be.  There is hope beyond death.  And so, the notes say, we should grieve differently, because we are comforted by this hope.

All that is true.  But what if the person we're grieving for- a friend or family member- doesn't know God?  In a way that makes it even harder for a Christian to grieve, makes it something to be feared all the more.  Christianity is certainly not a soft option in that circumstance.

This is a problem I keep coming across when I'm praying for my friends.  Praying for myself, I know about all the promises that God will care for his people, will answer their prayers, that we shouldn't worry because he will provide what we need.  And I know- although sometimes I forget- that this is true, that whenever I have really been struggling either through lack of money, worries about housing, or not having a job, or when I've been feeling really down and hopeless, lonely and worthless- God has provided for me.  Maybe he's not given me what I want- the perfect job/ sufficient money not to have to be careful/ complete freedom from feeling rubbish, but he has given me what I need- enough money, somewhere to live, friends to sympathise and cheer me up.

But when I see my friends in need- through illness, or unemployment, or stress- I don't have those assurances.  When I pray for myself, I know that however much I struggle, in the end things will have worked out according to God's plan.  The journey may be hard, but I know I will reach the destination in the end.  There will be a good ending.  But with my friends I don't know that this will happen- that everything will be all right in the end.  I know God loves them- but since they don't care about him, do promises like Matthew 6 vs 25-34 -"But seek first his kingdom and his righteousness, and all these things will be given to you as well" -apply to them?  They are promises given to God's children.  And will they allow God to help them, or reject what he might want to do to help them out of a desire for independence?  

That doesn't stop me praying for them, though.  Because there's also the promise that God answers prayer, not in the way I always want or expect, but in his much better way, seen from his perspective outside space and time.  Perhaps I should be sure that God will answer my prayers to help my friends.  I know that he has their- as well as my- best interests at heart.  Perhaps what I want isn't the best or right thing for them- perhaps what God does or doesn't do to help them would be better.  I don't know.  But I trust that God does.  

And yet I often spend more time worrying about my friends' well being than about my own.  Perhaps that's taking looking outward to the extreme.  And yet perhaps that's better than not caring.