In an effort to find a decent writing sample for an interested party, I began looking through some of my work I'd done while still in school. I came across this journal entry written in March 2002 which I used as a postscript to my senior thesis. This is not what I submitted as a writing sample, but I was convicted as I read the words on the page because I feel so far from that point in life and it bothers me. Have I become complacent and too comfortable? Two years have passed from that time, I feel as though I have digressed from any path I was headed down.
My fear is that my life will not be easy. My fear is that I might end up fighting for those who are oppressed. My fear is that people, close friends, and even my family will question my extremes, my actions, my passions. Will they question my salvation and wonder about my commitment to Christ? My fear is that I am petrified of losing my life…Luke 9:23 haunts me. My fear is that I do not have the courage to take up the plight of the poor, ignored, and abandoned. My fear is that I might be tortured, perhaps by my own—I might experience wild pain and be ignored by those I know and grew up with who now live behind their picket fences and chained up doors, because they choose not to be informed or step outside the door of what is familiar to them. My fear is that I just might let the gospel impact my life and change me radically, my fear is that I will continue this life looking through tear-filled eyes as I seek out truth while the pit of never-understanding remains in my throat. My fear is that I am beginning to believe Jesus has the capacity to use me to change systems and people. My fear is that my life might be on the run and adventurous. My fear is that I might stifle myself out of fear. My foundation is that God is more sovereign than any system or individual, that he is calling me to follow him with every part of my life be it the food I eat, the way I love David, or the car I drive. My fear is that in 20 years I will find these words buried deep in a cardboard box and I will have lived out none of my idealism rather I will have given in to the system. I feel I am on the brink of igniting…I will worship—corporately and in solitude. Because I am not God. Cleanse my life. A revolution is rising up in my heart.
My fear is that my life will not be easy. My fear is that I might end up fighting for those who are oppressed. My fear is that people, close friends, and even my family will question my extremes, my actions, my passions. Will they question my salvation and wonder about my commitment to Christ? My fear is that I am petrified of losing my life…Luke 9:23 haunts me. My fear is that I do not have the courage to take up the plight of the poor, ignored, and abandoned. My fear is that I might be tortured, perhaps by my own—I might experience wild pain and be ignored by those I know and grew up with who now live behind their picket fences and chained up doors, because they choose not to be informed or step outside the door of what is familiar to them. My fear is that I just might let the gospel impact my life and change me radically, my fear is that I will continue this life looking through tear-filled eyes as I seek out truth while the pit of never-understanding remains in my throat. My fear is that I am beginning to believe Jesus has the capacity to use me to change systems and people. My fear is that my life might be on the run and adventurous. My fear is that I might stifle myself out of fear. My foundation is that God is more sovereign than any system or individual, that he is calling me to follow him with every part of my life be it the food I eat, the way I love David, or the car I drive. My fear is that in 20 years I will find these words buried deep in a cardboard box and I will have lived out none of my idealism rather I will have given in to the system. I feel I am on the brink of igniting…I will worship—corporately and in solitude. Because I am not God. Cleanse my life. A revolution is rising up in my heart.
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