I was going through my pictures from the trip to Israel. Sorting, identifying – you know, the type of thing necessary to keep the memory of that wonderful experience alive. During this time it dawned on me that despite my efforts of the day and week, people were still dying without Christ.
I realized that as I leisurely reviewed each photograph, more souls slipped into eternity not knowing the good "News." I was struck by the thought that no matter how hard I worked as a minister, there were still the mundane little things of life that needed my attention and during those moments precious lives were lost. Not that one man can save everybody, but you'd think that at least when you're on duty, you may be making a difference.
In the end, the thought of my own insignificance and puny efforts drove me back to the cross of Christ. This painful episode taught me that while I slept, I needed His mercy; while I cared for my own personal affairs, I needed His mercy. I was always in need of His mercy.
The fact that I was saved, even when sticking photos into an album and the world spiraled downward, was both a blessing and an awakening. It showed me God's great love and justice as well as my need for Him regardless of what I did in or out of the pulpit.