Cancer and Baby Skin

I just got a call from David (the same David I've been posting about--see "David"). He told me that the agent orange he had taken in while in Vietnam had caused cancer in him. So he asked me if I could take him to the doctor tomorrow and asked for some financial help. Of course I said yes, and drove over to meet him at the intersection of Slauson and West, very near my old workplace, where he used to visit me. Once again, he was much more encouraging to me than I was to him. He quoted from two old hymns. The first shared about how we all have crosses to bear: "Must Jesus bear the cross alone, and all the world go free? No, there's a cross for everyone, and there's a cross for me." The second shared the joy that we will have once we get to heaven--like a great family reunion, only much, much better. David has been through so much in his life--yet he continually praises God and looks forward to being with him forever. (He will interject little halelujah's as he shares some scripture or a word of encouragement with me.) After I bought him some orange juice (practically the only thing that stays in his system these days), he prayed (for me!--I didn't even get a chance to pray for him) and I dropped him off near his brother's house, where he will stay the night.
Looking back over my time with David, I realize that David is not the only one sick--I am sick in a different way. I lack love--when he called and told me that he had cancer, I realized how little I cared. I thought about how much more I would have cared if my mother, or one of my close friends from college had cancer. But even then, I don't think I would care like Jesus did when Lazarus died. Another indication of my sickness reared its head when he told me that he would give his veterans benefits to me and his brother if he were to die (he calls me son). Instead of crying at the thought of him dying, I thought for a couple moments how nice it would be to have income through the veterans benefits. Although my caring sometimes produces actions (I'm gonna take him to the hospital tomorrow), it has yet to fully work its way into my heart. I'm reminded of a Keith Green clip in which he shares how he prayed for God to put "baby skin" on his heart--to make it soft. I think that's what I need--some baby skin on my heart.

On monday night of this week, about midnight, I wrote a letter to the Lord. I didn't know where to mail it, so I put it in my Bible. And I asked Him, "Lord you've gotta do something about my heart. A lot of time's gone by since I've met you. it's starting to harden up. It's kind of natural. I want to have baby skin Lord. I want skin like a baby on my heart. Starting to get old, crinkled, calloused. It's not because of anything I'm doing. It's because of a lot of things I'm not doing.

Oh lord, you’re beautiful,
Your face is all I see,
For when your eyes are on this child,
Your grace abounds to me.
Oh lord, you’re beautiful,
Your face is all I see,
For when your eyes are on this child,
Your grace abounds to me.
I want to take your word and shine it all around.
But first help me to just, live it lord.
And when I’m doing well, help me to never seek a crown.
For my reward is giving glory to you.
Oh lord, please light the fire,
That once burned bright and clean.
Replace the lamp of my first love,
That burns with holy fear.
I want to take your word and shine it all around.
But first help me to just, live it lord.
And when I’m doing well, help me to never seek a crown.
For my reward is giving glory to you.
Oh lord, you’re beautiful,
Your face is all I see,
For when your eyes are on this child,
Your grace abounds to me.
Oh lord, you’re beautiful,
Your face is all I see,
For when your eyes are on this child,
Your grace abounds to me.