Where were you when My children were being murdered, raped, and starved? I gave you talents, resources, relationships, opportunities, and passion. I placed you in a world where you could flourish. As My chosen, I fed you, protected you, and surrounded you with abundance. And when My children cried out in need—where were you?
Isaiah 58:10, “If you pour yourself out for the hungry and satisfy the desire of the afflicted, then shall your light rise in the darkness and your gloom be as the noonday.”
The World Groans
The world groans under the weight of evil. This message is not for the lost, but for the found— for those whom God has blessed with safety, wealth, and comfort so they might care for those who have none. But we, the protected, have grown numb. We live such entitled lives that we fail to see the purpose behind the blessings God has poured upon us. We chase comfort, not calling; we protect our way of life instead of protecting life itself.
Luke 12:33, “Sell your possessions, and give to the needy. Provide yourselves with moneybags that do not grow old, with a treasure in the heavens that does not fail…”
One day, when judgment arrives—and it will—I fear we will hear God’s voice echoing through eternity: “Where were you?” He will cry that His people—those He trusted with resources and influence—used them for comfort instead of compassion. They followed culture rather than Christ. They built bigger houses, bought faster cars, and stored up treasures on earth while His children went hungry.
The World At Large
Imagine being born into a world where a warlord raped your mother, where, as a child, you were forced to kill strangers, and where your sister died of hunger while you watched helplessly. You never knew love, never felt safety, never heard laughter that wasn’t born of cruelty. You look up at the same night sky we do, and you ask, “If there is a God of love, where is He?” And God cries out once more, “Where were you, My chosen people?”
Colossians 3:12, “Put on then, as God’s chosen ones, holy and beloved, compassionate hearts, kindness, humility, meekness, and patience.”
We send missionaries who talk about love, but the hungry wonder, “Where is it?” We parachute into their pain, bringing gifts and good intentions, then retreat to our comforts, convinced we’ve made a difference. Yet, all too often, we leave behind only disappointment— hope that flickered for a moment and then faded. They stay, still hungry, still hurting, still asking where God is— while we scroll, shop, and sleep peacefully.
Mark 10:21-22, “Jesus, looking at him, loved him and said, ‘You lack one thing; go, sell what you own, and give the money to the poor, and you will have treasure in heaven; then come, follow me.’ When he heard this, he was shocked and went away grieving, for he had many possessions.”
Where Were You?
1 John 3:17, “But if anyone has the world’s goods and sees his brother in need, yet closes his heart against him, how does God’s love abide in him?”
Many faithful believers will one day stand before their Maker, expecting crowns and jewels, but instead meet a tearful God who asks, “Where were you when My people suffered?” Jesus said the poor will always be among us—not merely because the world is broken, but because He knew our comfort would be too precious to sacrifice.
“Whenever you serve others in any way, you are actually serving God.” — Rick Warren
So I challenge you: Travel to a place where the world is harsh and hope is fragile. Don’t go to preach—go to listen. Sit with them. Hear their stories. See the image of God in faces marked by suffering. Ask yourself what your life might have been if you were born in their village, not yours.
James 1:27, “Religion that is pure and undefiled before God, the Father, is this: to visit orphans and widows in their affliction, and to keep oneself unstained from the world.”
If you do, and you truly listen, you’ll never see the night sky the same way again. You will understand why God still asks, “Where were you?”
Because the man on the middle cross said I could come, that is what the thief might have said when standing before God. He didn’t mention Bible studies or mission trips. Acceptance wasn’t guaranteed by theology or learning; it was guaranteed because one man said he could come. That man was the representation of our living God. He was part of the Trinity, and He died so that we may live.