If you see them...
I’ve had moments where I knew someone I cared about was slipping.
Not slipping in the casual way people talk about making mistakes, but slipping in a way that felt dangerous... like they were standing right at the edge of something that could take them out completely. You sense it before they even say anything. You can see it in their eyes, hear it in the way they talk, notice it in the patterns they start to follow. Their spirit is different. Their posture toward life is different. It’s like something inside is unraveling, but they’ve kept the thread hidden just enough that no one says anything out loud.
And if I’m being honest, there have been times I didn’t say something soon enough. Not because I didn’t love them, but because I wasn’t sure what to say. I didn’t want to push too hard or come off like I was trying to fix them. I told myself I would wait for a better moment. I told myself they probably just needed time. But deep down I knew they were headed toward a ledge, and I stayed silent anyway. And sometimes the cliff doesn’t wait.
There is a kind of love that doesn’t get talked about enough. It’s not soft or surface level. It’s not just about comfort or kindness. It’s the kind of love that gets into the grit of someone’s life and refuses to leave them alone in it. It’s a love that moves toward the mess instead of backing away. It’s a love that grabs someone who is drifting and says, “No, not on my watch.” It’s not controlling or forceful, but it’s deeply present. It carries a kind of solemn urgency. You don’t love someone like that from a distance. You love them by showing up and staying, even when the road gets uncomfortable.
And I think we need more of that. Because there are people in this mode all around us. They’re not announcing it. They’re not calling for help. But they are pulling away... slowly, quietly, steadily. Maybe they’ve been hurt. Maybe they’ve been numbed by life. Maybe they’re tangled up in something they don’t know how to let go of. Regardless of how they got there, they need someone who is willing to see it and love them enough to say something. Not in judgment. Not in shame. But in bold, prayed over, letting them know they truly matter, kind of way.
When someone’s life is starting to unravel, it’s not enough to just hope things get better. Love calls us to act. Love invites us to be brave enough to lean in. And that might mean asking the hard question. It might mean sitting down beside them and saying, “I’m not here to fix you, but I’m not going to pretend everything’s fine either.” It might mean risking the awkwardness of being misunderstood. But I would rather someone be frustrated with me for caring too much than wonder later if I ever cared at all.
Sometimes I think we confuse love with politeness. We think being kind means staying silent. But real love can’t sit still when someone is walking toward destruction. Real love is willing to step in even when it’s messy. Real love shows up and says, “This is not who you are. I see the truth in you, and I’m not letting go.”
I’ve had people do that for me. People who saw something I couldn’t. People who called me back to who I was meant to be. And I thank God for every one of them. They didn’t do it to control me or shame me. They did it because they cared more about my soul than my comfort. That’s what I want to be for others. Someone who loves enough to go to the edge. Someone who doesn’t just pray from a distance but walks all the way to the point of danger and reaches out in love.
Because I believe with everything in me that love... when it’s real, moves. It acts. It risks. It speaks. Not for the sake of being right, but for the sake of rescuing what matters most.
And what matters most is people. The ones God created. The ones He longs to redeem. The ones who may not even know how close they are to falling apart.
If there is someone in your life right now who’s drifting, don’t wait for a perfect moment. Don’t convince yourself that silence is safer. Love them enough to speak. Love them enough to be there. Love them enough to pull when the time comes.
This is what we are called to do.
Rescue others by snatching them from the fire.
Jude 1:23
Let’s be people who don’t look away.
Let’s be people who run to the edge.
Let’s be people who love like Jesus did, without fear, without hesitation, and without holding back.
Not slipping in the casual way people talk about making mistakes, but slipping in a way that felt dangerous... like they were standing right at the edge of something that could take them out completely. You sense it before they even say anything. You can see it in their eyes, hear it in the way they talk, notice it in the patterns they start to follow. Their spirit is different. Their posture toward life is different. It’s like something inside is unraveling, but they’ve kept the thread hidden just enough that no one says anything out loud.
And if I’m being honest, there have been times I didn’t say something soon enough. Not because I didn’t love them, but because I wasn’t sure what to say. I didn’t want to push too hard or come off like I was trying to fix them. I told myself I would wait for a better moment. I told myself they probably just needed time. But deep down I knew they were headed toward a ledge, and I stayed silent anyway. And sometimes the cliff doesn’t wait.
There is a kind of love that doesn’t get talked about enough. It’s not soft or surface level. It’s not just about comfort or kindness. It’s the kind of love that gets into the grit of someone’s life and refuses to leave them alone in it. It’s a love that moves toward the mess instead of backing away. It’s a love that grabs someone who is drifting and says, “No, not on my watch.” It’s not controlling or forceful, but it’s deeply present. It carries a kind of solemn urgency. You don’t love someone like that from a distance. You love them by showing up and staying, even when the road gets uncomfortable.
And I think we need more of that. Because there are people in this mode all around us. They’re not announcing it. They’re not calling for help. But they are pulling away... slowly, quietly, steadily. Maybe they’ve been hurt. Maybe they’ve been numbed by life. Maybe they’re tangled up in something they don’t know how to let go of. Regardless of how they got there, they need someone who is willing to see it and love them enough to say something. Not in judgment. Not in shame. But in bold, prayed over, letting them know they truly matter, kind of way.
When someone’s life is starting to unravel, it’s not enough to just hope things get better. Love calls us to act. Love invites us to be brave enough to lean in. And that might mean asking the hard question. It might mean sitting down beside them and saying, “I’m not here to fix you, but I’m not going to pretend everything’s fine either.” It might mean risking the awkwardness of being misunderstood. But I would rather someone be frustrated with me for caring too much than wonder later if I ever cared at all.
Sometimes I think we confuse love with politeness. We think being kind means staying silent. But real love can’t sit still when someone is walking toward destruction. Real love is willing to step in even when it’s messy. Real love shows up and says, “This is not who you are. I see the truth in you, and I’m not letting go.”
I’ve had people do that for me. People who saw something I couldn’t. People who called me back to who I was meant to be. And I thank God for every one of them. They didn’t do it to control me or shame me. They did it because they cared more about my soul than my comfort. That’s what I want to be for others. Someone who loves enough to go to the edge. Someone who doesn’t just pray from a distance but walks all the way to the point of danger and reaches out in love.
Because I believe with everything in me that love... when it’s real, moves. It acts. It risks. It speaks. Not for the sake of being right, but for the sake of rescuing what matters most.
And what matters most is people. The ones God created. The ones He longs to redeem. The ones who may not even know how close they are to falling apart.
If there is someone in your life right now who’s drifting, don’t wait for a perfect moment. Don’t convince yourself that silence is safer. Love them enough to speak. Love them enough to be there. Love them enough to pull when the time comes.
This is what we are called to do.
Rescue others by snatching them from the fire.
Jude 1:23
Let’s be people who don’t look away.
Let’s be people who run to the edge.
Let’s be people who love like Jesus did, without fear, without hesitation, and without holding back.
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