My body shakes and my mind races as I stare helplessly at this poor man, bruised, bleeding, and broken. He seems so helpless. Men are so pitiful when everything is stripped away and they have nothing to lean on, they're left without all their props. I suppose they are no more in need of sympathy than a woman in the same situation but to me a man on verge of crying because of despair is almost more than my heart can bear to see.
The rain continues, slower now but still there as I stand on the side of the road with this man I've never met, his world just came crashing down around him, literally. He's taken a hard hit to some vital organs and glass is embedded across the back of his neck. There is blood, but not so much that it is of any immediate danger. It's his groans of despair that tear at my heart. And my helplessness amazes me.
And I'm reminded how fragile life is, how weak our flesh is, and how thankful I am to know what my eternity holds all because of the Son of Man who was bruised, bleeding and broken for me! I wonder if this man I'm standing with knows my Jesus. I feebly offer to pray for him and he is thankful.