What would you say?

The world.

The world has these unwritten rules. Practices of things that "just are." "It's a dog eat dog world." "If it's going to me or you, it's going to be me." "Always look out for number 1." "There is no right or wrong, only what is and what isn't." I thought of these things last night as waited to fall asleep, possibly considering each as a topic to write about. I wondered as I laid there what kind of verbal arsenal I could pre-stage as I waited. Perhaps I could take aim and fire off on whatever was controversial. Perhaps I could speak of celebrities and whatever was topical. I could poke holes into their moral fiber.

As I laid there I wondered, half praying, half thinking, "God, if you could talk through me, what would you talk about?" Would you talk about the economy or a celebrity? Would you talk about America or the world being morally bankrupt?

It sounds stupid, but I don't think God would. I honestly think that God has very little interest in what's a hot topic. (I realize the audacity about what I'm about to say...) I heard a small, clear voice say, I don't care about this. I care about the other end of the spectrum. Not the fancy cars or the million dollar homes or any of the distractions of this world. (I'm paraphrasing, of course) God told me, I care about the lost.

I began to think of the unglamorous. The junior high girl who doesn't know what it is to be loved. The drug addict and the homeless person. The real people in the world who are hurting, who are dying, who are struggling to hold on. The people that we consider background noise. The people who don't fit our MTV mold or way of thinking. The people who are written off and over looked. The people who want so badly to believe in a God or anything out there that would love them and the people who are convinced that there is no God.

If God could talk through me, I think he'd have me talk to those people. The unglamorous. The forgotten. Here I claim to be this Christian. Here I claim to be another "prodigal son." Here and now I began to think of what my life consists of. One day I will have to answer for so many things. One day I will stand side by side the other sinners and saints. One day I will see all of it and God will show me these people again. He will show me the worlds "background noises," the forgotten and unloved. He will say to me, You claim to be a child of mine, where were you for these people? Will my excuses of having to work even sound acceptable even to me? I had no time outside of watching TV or playing Xbox. I looked the other way at the intersection when the vagabond with nothing but humiliation in his eyes, looked into mine and I was too embarrassed or I thought he may have been an addict. The cars I want, or the houses I pray for and the money I hope to have one day is all but trivial. God says to me, None of this matters.

When Jesus was alive the forgotten were his calling. The people who were hurting or needing. That's where he was. He wasn't involved in politics or fashion or materialism. God was telling me that this is what he cares about! These people. These who are lost. His prodigal children.
I don't say these things with the intention of a guilt trip. I don't say these things to seem "holier than thou." I say these things because I honestly think that If God were to talk through me, this is what would matter.

I believe in all my heart that I will stand before God one day.

Nothing is as terrifying as that thought.

I cannot imagine a world hurting as it does not to have that single bit of hope. I cannot imagine
anyone around me that I know, never having that opportunity.

In my millions of miles of shame, I have only Jesus to cling too.



I think it's good to remind ourselves to be of the world and not in it. I think it's also good to remember to love people through their faults as God has loved us through ours. I believe that God wants us to be so much like Jesus that that's what he's in us. To do that, I think we need to venture out to the uncomfortable places.

I think we need to start asking God, What would you say?

Where is the fire?

I wonder how many times I will have to reassess or re-evaluate where I'm at. How many times I'll sit and say to myself, you've gone to far. You've gotten away from it. You have become what you said you wouldn't. You are the hypocrite you despise. Where is your fire? The one that burned in you, when you said you would give this life to God?

I said I wouldn't go back to my old habits or my old ways. But where does He find me? In my old habits. In my old ways. And I ask him again and again, why do you never tire of this? I have let my fire go out, I've let you down and whoever else who might be out there watching.

I wonder why you are so eager to welcome your prodigal son. Why that, before I can offer my excuses or my rehearsed stories, you have silenced me. You have fallen around my neck rejoicing. And this is what angers me. This is what saddens me and rips my heart apart.

To know your love is to know the need of a savior. To know your grandness compared to my frailty, your awesomeness compared to my lacking. How you could ever love the tainted hearts of any of us makes me only ask, why?

Why set us the cornerstone of your creation?

Why bless us when we fail you?

Why love us at all?

And yet I hear you rejoicing for me. Asking me why?

Why have you not gotten tired of this foolishness?

Why do bother to fight against my will?

Why not accept this grace?

Lord forgive me for letting this fire subside.

I am asking you, again, to rebuild me and to set me on fire for you.
Let me regain myself and carry this light of yours out into the world.
Let me die, so you can replace me with you.
Let this fire replace the emptiness I have placed in it's stead.