The four words every parent has mastered is, "I told you so." I heard it throughout my childhood and probably said it more than I care to admit with my own children. They are the natural words used out of frustration when we want what is best for those that we love, but they choose their own paths to their own foolishness and harm. When our children suffer the consequences of their own decisions, we don't gloat over being right, we lament over what will happen to them. This heart of a parent should prevail over every area of the Christian's life. Unfortunately, most Christians choose to remain quiet, rather than serve as God's mouthpiece as Jeremiah did to the hostile world of neighbors he was surrounded by. Most of us prefer to complain about others with those of us who share similar viewpoints. The question we must ask ourselves is where is our heart? If we are not warning, despite knowing the truth of what will happen to those who don't know Jesus, why not? If we do, what is our heart like when they fall? Do we feel satisfaction over being right or do we lament at their predicament? Not only in areas of faith, but in every walk. If conservative, do we rejoice over the downfall over liberals? If liberal, do we rejoice over the downfall of conservatives? When AIDS first arrived, many Christians failed the test of lamenting. With it's initial devastation over the homosexual community, rather than lamenting over their situation, and loving them as Jesus would and as we are called to do, so many to our shame, coldly and without lamenting said, "I told you so". If Christians would have acted like Jesus then, those in the homosexual community would have seen Jesus in us, and more than likely have desired to learn more about this Jesus who is capable of such love. But such was not the case, and the rest is history.

For 40 years, Jeremiah warned the people and pleaded with them to turn from their godless ways. For 40 years he preached without a single convert. For all his efforts, he was ridiculed, tortured, thrown in a cistern to die, beaten, etc. When things finally happened as he had prophesied they would, and his people were either dead or led into captivity, this beautiful man of God chose not to rejoice over being proven so accurate and being vindicated after so many years. No he lamented over their plight and over the unspeakable tragedies he was witnessing that they would have been spared if they had only listened to him. Hear his words, as we read in Lamentations 1:1, "How lonely sits the city That was full of people! How like a widow is she, Who was great among the nations!" He describes why this happened in 1:5, "Her adversaries have become the master, Her enemies prosper; For the Lord has afflicted her Because of the multitude of her transgressions. Her children have gone into captivity before the enemy." He goes on describing the consequences in 2:9, "The gates have sunk into the ground; He has destroyed and broken her bars. Her kings and her princes are among the nations; The Law is no more, And her prophets find no vision from the Lord." These were some of the people behind much of the abuse he had received. But we see the extent of his lamenting as we read in 2:11, "My eyes fail with tears, My heart is troubled; My bile is poured on the ground Because of the destruction of the daughter of my people, Because the children and the infants Faint in the streets of the city."

Jeremiah reflected the heart of God as he sat on his location overlooking Jerusalem looking over the rubble and carnage before his eyes. He wept until he had no more tears left. How about us? Is it more important to be right? Do we feel a sense of satisfaction when we are vindicated or do we lament over the consequences over those we have warned? Do we even bother to warn? This shows even less heart if we know something to be true but choose to hold this information back for any reason? Whether we choose to remain silent for fear of ridicule, for fear of being ostracized, for losing our popularity and standing, whatever the reason it sounds very cold against the backdrop of what surrounds us. People are dying every day, people who we chose not to warn what would happen if they did not make a decision to follow Jesus Christ and accept His payment. When Oskar Schindler, who helped spare the lives of so many Jewish people during World War II, was congratulated for his efforts, he lamented instead over how much more he could have done. In heaven, God will wipe away our last tear (Revelation 21:4). I wonder if those tears will be over our lamenting of how much more we could have done as ambassadors on earth. The opportunities are endless every day, but every day we must examine our heart and see if it more closely reflects that of the world which craves being right or that of God who warns and laments over the outcome of godless decisions.