Diseased...

At the age of 23, I am fully drenched in a season that is entirely different than I think a lot of people experience, or even care to throw themselves into.

According to the world's standard, this age should be marked with wild experimentation of the countless sorts. Fun, adventure, freshness, failure, learning....

These years leave memories of that heroic kind of courage it takes to decide what the rest of your life will live, breathe, and exist for--your career, who you give your heart to, what passions you will focus on, what dreams and ideas you will bring to reality. When walking through this season, every direction seems to lead to a crossroads. <<< Last sentence, cliche? Touche!


To major in this field or that? To work for this job, or that? To commit to this ministry, or that? To live in this state, or that? To commit to this person, or that? Make a decision now or wait, wait, wait for another day? Questions, questions, questions, questions......ahhhhhhhhhhhhhh!!!!!!!

Sometimes, when I'm standing in the middle of these questions, it takes everything in me to keep from screaming at the top of my lungs, throwing my hands up in the air, and collapsing in front of the "To be or Not to be" sign separating the happy road and Cruella highway.

Sometimes, very rarely, but still sometimes....I want to quit. That is, quit.....EVERYTHING. And yes. Sure, "God directs our paths", absolutely! But I'm finding He didn't make us to be robots. He gave us this life to enjoy and to make whatever we choose of it--He only asks to have the first invite to the party. Kind of like that best friend that shows up early to help you host and set up? I was never good at analogies, but if you get what I mean, thank you!

Despite my normal and expected "WHO AM I?" tantrums or the frequent "WHO AM I GOING TO BE?" mental wars, one solid decision remains the same:

I am NOT, nor will I EVER be a diseased Christian.

When I say a diseased Christian, I do not describe the human being that is imperfect, struggles with sin, fails everyday, but is clinging to the cross. I am not even describing the human being that is imperfect, struggles with sin, fails everyday, but is NOT clinging to the cross.

A diseased Christian is a human being who is fruitless, ineffective, and worthless according to the bible in Revelations.

This type of Christian is self sufficient, self involved, and self centered.

This type of Christian is the type that sees a homeless person on the side of the road and says a prayer for them, never even WISHING they could stop and help them.

This type of Christian is the type that sees a woman walk down the street, carrying heavy bags of groceries and keeps on driving, never even TRYING to turn around and offer a ride.

This type of Christian is the type that never goes beyond writing a check.

This type of Christian likes to volunteer with shelters and nursing homes, but only rarely and when it is conveniently set up by the local church in a "group" setting.

The type of Christian, who rarely volunteers, also likes to post pictures of their once-a-year volunteering on the internet for the whole world to recognize and compliment for their great, Christ-like efforts.

This type of Christian lets their elderly neighbor live without friendly visits or much needed time out of the house.

This type of Christian has lots of ideas for fixing problems in the community, but never actually puts effort into bringing those ideas to life.

This type of Christian likes to spend their free time having fun, spending time with family, going shopping---they never consider people outside of their own little world.

This type of Christian doesn't know their next door neighbor's family will be going to bed without dinner.

This type of Christian is afraid to get involved, thinking the world's problems are too big and will never get solved anyway, so why waste their time and emotions?

This type of Christian likes to talk a big game about being like Jesus, but never actually LIVES like Jesus.

This type of Christian does not like giving extra time or even money outside of the "norm", but feels really good about themselves for the rest of the year if they do.

This type of Christian commends those who love the needy, take care of the poor, visit the overlooked and always wish they could one day be more like them. They just can't shake the guilt they feel because they aren't and probably never will be.

This type of Christian knows authentic Christianity will take more effort and energy than they care to give, so they are content with their disease.

This type of Christian will be the poorest in heaven and will have the most regrets.



You see, at the age of 23, I am starting to see things a whole lot different nowadays. I see things a lot more clearer and a lot more intentional. The above mentioned descriptions are EASILY an honest picture of who I used to be. But I recently decided that I do not want to spend my time dancing through life, enjoying the fruits of my labor and the happiness that I think I deserve, while blatantly ignoring the chaos going on down the street. Funny, I always saw happiness as my right to have. After all, I'm an American?

No, I am learning that true happiness is not always found in the laughter of my friends, or the latest social gathering. It is not even found in the volunteering and supposed "loving" of the community.

Happiness is found when you lay down your time, your comfort zone, your heart for someone who has it worse off than you do. If this sounds familiar or like a line from a hallmark movie, don't whip out the crying violins just yet. This is truth, not foolishly sentimental mush.

I have to tell you. Happiness, for me, is found in the eyes of a little old man named Bruce. I found him a year ago, walking down the side of the road, barely walking should I say, carrying loads of groceries in the Florida summer heat. Cars passed by like it was nothing, dismissing him like he was nothing. I have to say, it took everything in me to listen my heart and turn my car around and offer him a ride.

I'm so glad I listened because I quickly learned that he has no relatives or friends to look after him, and lives in a one bedroom apartment only one mile from my house. The last week of every month he would starve because his social security would run out. He spends most of his days sitting alone in his roach infested, low income housing apartment either listening to the radio or
smoking cigarettes. He told me he doesn't even enjoy smoking, its just simply "company" to him.

Bruce expected to one day die and not be found for days.

Throughout the time I've had to get to know him, the little old man with the prettiest blue eyes I have ever seen, has quickly become my happiness. Loving him with love from Jesus is my happiness. And finding more Bruces, whether in my neighbor, local prison, family shelter, or foreign country will be my life's purpose.

Of all the crazy decisions I will be making these next few years, this decision is final. No long week at work, exasperating semester at school, lack of funds, or lack of "time" will deter me from this road.

So I decided, after all, to really set my eyes on heavenly things. Want to know what this whole "Christianity" thing is about? Read your bible and see countless, love-crazed Jesus followers who gave their EVERYTHING to reach out and love those around them---even when it was ugly, even when it was inconvenient, and even when it broke their hearts.

So like the stinkin' poem I read in 6th grade, which is popularly mentioned at American high school and college graduations nationwide, I've decided to walk down the road less traveled. This is not a road for fame, glory, and greatness. This road is for the humble, quiet, secret servants of which I will gladly toss my crown to follow.

I guess even if I'm walking alone for most of it, God is going to send me a spouse to finish the race eventually. It will be fun having at least one friend along for the ride. But one thing I know for sure:

This is so worth it.