It rained yesterday. The sky was the slate blanket that comes every now and then in the Pennsylvania transition between seasons. It was one of those days you dreaded as a kid, sitting in school with no way to mark the passing of time.
Morning was afternoon. Dawn was dusk.
I got home from work, we ate dinner, then dressed the boys to go run some errands. Aiden put on his rain boots and ran outside. I followed and attempted to get him and Carter in the car. He found his way to a puddle and started jumping.
Peppa Pig style (for you parents out there) jumping in puddles with his rain boots.
At the end of a dreary day, he’d found his own slice of adventure.
Kids are easy for this. They are our stereotypical adventurers. We watch them play with nostalgia. If only, we think and sigh, those were the days.
We are meant for more.
We are meant for a faith that calls us out of the darkness.
We are meant for a radical community of faith, hope, and love, to embrace others and show them the grace that allows us to live day by day.
So many dream of Heaven. We think, then we can finally live, finally see the beauty of sun rays, crystal waters, perfect love and joy.
So we go on auto pilot and try to survive. All the while, God calls us to the deep.
How will it look for you? How will it look for me and my family? I don’t know. I feel like I’m learning more each day.
Learning that the story isn’t over. That there is still room for adventure, for a life of passion and change, hope and impact. There is room for hope in a better world, that the poor can find help, the hungry can be fed, the cold can find warmth, and the burdened will find rest.
I wish I could explain it to you. I wish I had the poetry that some of my friends and fellow writers have. I wish I had the copywriting spin to sell you on the key points of the Gospel. I wish I had ten million copies sold to hold up and show you why you should believe me.
The only thing I can give you is honesty.
Faith isn’t easy. I’ve looked in the mirror many moments and wondered why and where? I’ve held my hands to the sky and asked God to show up. I’ve wanted the concrete conversation, for Gabriel to show up in my Scion one day and, after miraculously healing the brakes, tell me the depths and heights of faith and the song of the Universe.
Hope isn’t easy.
Love isn’t easy.
For in the moment when the voice, the one that sounds so familiar for Adam and Eve so long ago, when it whispers “this is it, just give up,” something tells me No.
This isn’t it. The fight isn’t over. Bigger things are coming. It is a gut response, a fight that rises up from the place that can only be occupied by the fire of the love of Jesus.
What is life about? It is the fight for Passion, to never give up, to never back down. To taste every sip of the majesty of God’s creation, to work to change lives, to shine the light of grace and love.
To wake up in the morning and do it all over again.