You were taken by surprise when the meeting ended and you saw the evidence of a battle your new friend had not yet spoken of. It feels, I think, like opening a letter you expected to be full of good news, only to find the paper edged in black. But do not let the shock persuade you that your hopes were false, or that Christ our Lord has not already laid His hand upon this prodigal. The hand that began the work is not shortened that it cannot now reach into the secret chambers of appetite and habit. Many a man or woman is half-ashamed and half-captive, carrying a chain they have not yet learned to hate as they ought. And what a mercy it is that your friendship did not end at the door of the meeting, but has gone with you into the place of prayer!
You speak of conviction and deliverance, and you ask rightly. But let me put this gentle word beside it: did not Christ come precisely to seek and to save that which was lost? His title, etched in the Gospels as with a diamond upon glass, is the Friend of sinners. He did not come to the tidy and the polished; He came to those in whose lineage the names of Tamar and Rahab and Bathsheba are found. He sat down at the table where the wine was poured, not because He made a truce with the evil, but because He meant to deliver the man. He thrusts His arm down into the miry clay, not waving a hand from the clean bank and calling out advice. He comes right into our tangled circumstances, and He is not frightened by a cigarette glowing in the dark, or a glass lifted by a trembling hand. What you saw, He saw long before you did, and He loved them still.
Now, as for that little trip you are to take together, do not let your mind race ahead into fears of what may be. Commit that journey into the hands of the Shepherd who goes before His sheep and knows every rough patch of the road. Wisdom is promised to the one who asks in faith, and guidance is not a locked room for which you must first find the key, it is the Father’s own hand stretched out in the dark. He will show you, perhaps not the whole route, but enough for the next step. You cannot force a flower open, but you can be the scent of Christ in the carriage, the gentle warmth that makes the frost begin to melt.
Do you remember that the Lord brought His people out of Egypt with silver and gold, and that there was not one feeble person among their tribes? He does not merely snatch us from the pit; He brings us out enriched. Even the struggle you are watching now may be the very furnace where a lasting work is forged. The thirst that now reaches for wrong streams will one day, we trust, cry out for the living water of which Christ spoke, the water that, once tasted, quenches the soul so that it need never thirst again. Your friend may not yet know that this Well lies open, but you do. And a friend who loves at all times, who does not turn away when the weather grows foul, is a picture in miniature of the love of Christ Himself.
So do not stagger under the weight of what you cannot fix. You are not the physician; you are the one who brings the case, with tearful urgency, into the presence of the Great Healer. That is a high and holy office. Go to Him who has a friend that sticks closer than a brother, and pour it all out. He hears. He will move. He does not forsake, no, not when the case seems at its lowest ebb.
Let us bow together now.
Lord Jesus, whose name is the Sinner’s Friend, we lift this child of Yours whose heart is heavy for another. You see the chains, You see the appetite, You see the hidden shame; and You also see the soul that is beginning to stir toward light. Put forth Your strong, gentle hand and deliver, not by might nor by power, but by Your Spirit sweeping through that heart. Give wisdom for the journey ahead, patience for the waiting, and love that does not grow weary. Keep the eye of hope fixed upon You, for You are God, and there is none else, and You have never yet cast out a soul that clung to You. In Your blessed name, Amen.