I prayed with a young man the other night in Martin Hall (a youth detention center), he had cut marks on his wrist.
When I asked him what I could pray with him about, he just said...I am lost.
It was an interesting moment, reaching out and grabbing the hands of a young man who had obviously attempted to end the life I was about to pray for.

Those moments leave tattoo themselves on your soul.

After times like that, I deeply long to touch God or be touched by God that there may be something tangible in the moment of prayer. I long for the "power going out" experience of Jesus, like when the woman with the issue of blood reached out and touched Him. He said He felt "power" go out from Him. What a thought.

As I sat there in that cold, bright gym, I was surrounded by a mass of offenders, rejects, recently redeemed and seekers. It was loud, chaotic and hard to hear but I know that as I held those recently hacked wrists, that Jesus was holding them too. My prayer is that His "power" was released as well; that power went out from Him to that young man. Power to change, to heal, to awaken and come to know his purpose for life. Power to come to know Jesus and His love for broken kids...