Sometimes in my mind I go somewhere great. The verse of a well written song takes me away and my thoughts deceive me that this isn't my sofa that I'm sitting on, and the pile of dishes don't exist. The warm coffee sitting next to me excites my smell and raises my pulse with its caffeine,with a strangely calming familiarity. I feel creativity pushing against the normal boundaries, crying out for me to become extraordinary. But oh, what do I do next?
The idea of living out the change that is so desperately calling is so much easier to dream about than actually stepping outside my door. I wish I could pick up a trumpet and call the dissatisfied individuals to my front lawn. Maybe then we could encourage one another past the point of discussion and into the world of action.
Yet, the first battle to be won is against myself. I must find motivation, vision, conquer time management and the ability to silence the distracting din of those dirty dish moments.
The next hurdle is teaching, conversation, mentoring, and sharpening the iron in me against the iron of others. We forge a workable idea that is based in a deep relationship. But first comes the relationship, the time, the energy, the polite hellos and social gratuity that is required to bond deeply enough to begin to change the world. When we trust each other, when we've cried and shared and prayed and dreamed, talked and fought, and seen one another with bed head, a dirty house and in foul moods, then we can walk towards the ever elusive change. I'm exhausted already. And the dreamy lyrics have died away, the caffeine is crashing, and I don't know how to play the trumpet.
I want to be inspiring, but that can only be done with a family of revolutionaries to walk with me every day. This is what I long for in community. To give and to be given to, so that we can become all that God has planted deep inside of us. If eternity is written on our hearts, then why are we so fearful to live by them?
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