With cold and numb hands I scrape away the November frost from my truck’s windows. I scrape and I scrape, pausing to knock the snow off my ice scraper. Hitting it against my shoe it breaks, the brittle plastic falling to the asphalt. But my windows don’t get off that easily. I pick up the broken blade of the scraper and finish the job.

I walk in and sit down to type, but before I can phrase my first sentence my sleeping roommate asks a question. He probes into my soul, searching out my thoughts, my motivations, my rationale. He’s scraping.

A vespers service full of pain, praise, and knees on cold concrete. I watched the images of starving Sudanese children, the flies buzzing around their bony limbs. I cried out to my God. I fell to my knees. Thoughts of nineties cash and the newest rage flooded my mind. $2 spent on Cokes the night before, and a Sudanese man tells us ten cents would buy a loaf of bread–food for three days. Cries of ‘I want’ turn to ‘I need.’ But I don’t really need anything. I have more than some villages. Orion watches me come in after midnight, again–and God is scraping.

Too many late nights shown true with glazed and baggy eyes. But it’s more than worth it. You often learn more in college outside of class than in it. This week has been one of those weeks. It’s nice to be able to set the responsibilities aside and just enjoy life. To sit down and talk with your roommates for three hours. To laugh. To really get a feel for what drives people. To share what’s on your heart. Some things are just more important than homework.

I want to walk into your sanctuary
And all around me
The angels stop and stare
I want to lay my life
Down before you
I want to lay myself down
By your feet
And weep for joy
That we finally meet
Oh God

Did I do what I was called to do
Did I do what you wanted me to
Did I be the best that I could be
And will your mercy cover me
When I look up,
Will you be smiling at me
(‘When I Look Up’ by the Insyderz, © 1999)

Do you ever just get tired of the way things are? Does the way the world work just frustrate you? Priorities are in the wrong order and nobody seems to understand what’s most important. Sometimes it’s just plain frustrating. You know what needs to happen in that case? You just need to change the world.

This sounds like a radical idea. Who am I to change the world? But if you claim to be a follower of God, then it’s your duty to change the world. That’s the whole reason we’re here. It bothers me when Christians hide in their bubbles and try to change what’s inside the bubble. They complain about the outside world, but they never do anything to change it. At best they make changes in their little bubble. But that’s not what we’re supposed to do. We’re supposed to go out and change the world. So let’s get changing.

So many questions to ask, and I just don’t know where to begin. The thoughts tumble around in my head like clothes in a dryer, and I’m just not sure where to start first. Humanity is such a curious creature. As sad as it sounds, we very much are like a virus that consumes everything as it expands. We consume our planet, its resources, even each other. We are such a fallen race. And I have to wonder where to begin. It’s like eating a whale, you just have to eat it a piece at a time. What will it take to tear into humanity’s webs, hose off the dust, and spread the truth? What will it take to change minds, to affect people’s actions? That is where change manifests itself. I so want to change the world, and I can only see one thing with the power to accomplish such a task. It’s nothing in me, it’s God. The world becomes so much clearer through such a lens. That is the only hope for our sunken humanity. Change the world, God. And start with me.