You walk right by and you don’t understand. You won’t take the time to lower yourself and talk to me. Your time, your agenda, and your money is more important than anything I have to offer. Don’t bother giving me the time of day. You won’t even let yourself smile, enjoying the day and what I have to offer. That would be giving in. What kind of world do we live in when you can’t even exchange understanding smiles with a stranger or hear an encouraging word? I don’t need your money. I just want to crack through your hollow shell and shed some light inside.

Confusion pounds your skull and the heat makes your brain melt. My glasses fogged up when I walked out of the grocery store tonight.

What’s the difference between reality and your dreams? Reach to touch the sky and perhaps you will. Then again maybe you won’t. Reality grounds us all and forces us to concede. Compromise. Can you compromise your dreams? Can you compromise your goals? But is it really a compromise? As long as the message the still gets out, what’s the difference? Intellectual tug-o-war–and frankly, I’d like to sit this one out. Nobody ever wins.

Noble dreams and noble goals. Does what you do matter? Do the events of your life shape and impact people’s lives? Maybe not the way you earn your money, but your day to day actions. Do they change people’s outlook? Maybe you work on the assembly line and tightening screws can’t possibly change someone’s life. But do your very actions work for good? So often I have this twisted ideal that you have to do something so noble and earth shattering, something to make a difference in the world. Your very profession must do this, or somehow you’re second rate. But is that so true? If I don’t take that step with every minute of my life, in every inconspicuous action, then how can I expect to last in a profession where I’ll do that? If I don’t tell the kid on the bus about Jesus, then what makes me think I’ll tell the kid in Africa about Jesus? Of course that’s no reason not to go to Africa, but it boggles my mind sometimes. We can only get out of our comfort zone for so long. Can such a thing be a lifestyle? Is that even possible? I so want to find out. I so want to break these chains of apathy–but I can’t do it.

As you look down the road, there are so many open doors, hallways, twists and turns. They open up before you like a maze. So many possibilities. And so many questions. Where will the money come from? What if I fail? What if I choose the wrong path? Yet somehow I know I have no need to fear. A hand guides me through the darkness of the night, showing me the way. A hand of provision. A hand of mercy. A hand of love. A hand of love that will help me rise above the hills and carry me through the canyons. And so why do I worry?

So what’s your reasoning? Is this for your glory? Something you can tack your name on? So you can proclaim loudly to the world, “I did that.” So you can feel the pride grow in your heart? No, that’s not what I’m after. It certainly does feel good, but that’s not what I want. What do I want? I want someone to open their eyes. I want them to see. I want the light to come on inside their skull and for everything to begin to become clear. Of course it’ll never be crystal clear. They’ll always struggle with the haze. Don’t we all? I want someone to look at something like they’ve never looked at it before. To hear something and make them see life in a new way. I want them to experience God in a new way. I want them to change. Butts have been asleep for too long–mine included. It’s time to stand up. It’s time to scream our dream. I want people to find that kind of passion within themselves. I want to do whatever it takes to get them there. That’s my reasoning. I want to see God change hearts, change minds, change visions, and make dreams. I want to hear those dreams. I want to see those dreams being lived out. Scream them if you must, do what it takes. It’s time to raise the volume. Let’s get loud.

Misshapen yesterdays and forgotten tomorrows. You can’t go home and you can’t stay here. Cell phones and pagers and the apathetic glow of the TV screen, screaming for you to stay. Coke, Pepsi, Bottled Water or $3 Coffee–what happened to a glass of water from the tap? When did this existence become so disinterested? Does it take a bundle of life falling into your lap to awaken your senses and realize that life is so much more than your close knit circle of loose acquaintances? The shallow conversation echoes endlessly at the bar and you live such an ill-fated heartbeat when your eyes scan the horizon for the next good time. Someone should tell you to grow up, but the sad thing is that you already have.