93 Words

Crowds gathered, sometimes small, other sometimes too large. Pushing forward to get to the front to hear words that both cut and healed in the same moment. Few things were certain, nevertheless, amid confusion, frustration, you left more alive than you came. Unsure of what would change, they pushed forward. To be touched. If even for a second, it could mean a lifetime of profit. Bringing the marginalized, the undervalued, the forgotten, and meeting rejection; highlighting the prevailed identity of worthlessness. But walls broke, and the insignificant owned the spotlight. He said "Be like them", the world turned upside down again.

no, you're not good enough.

I lay in my bed night after night, reading the same 93 words. Who am I? Am I the follower who refuses access because someone does not qualify to be touched by the same man who forever changed me? When did I become the gatekeeper to His presence? When did His love for me become greater than His love for them? When did I stop loving like He loves? I don't need to protect Him.

I don't care what anyone does, I'll push until He touches you.

The alternative found in the same motion. Parents bringing their children to sit at the feet of wonder. Unsure of why they are possessed by this man's words, actions, just knowing that if touched, a life would forever be changed, a destiny forever shaped. Who am I? Am I one who pushes through adversity, rejection, false identities, reasoned only for others to encounter their maker. Is everything I do: influencing, hoping, positioning others to be seen, to be touched? Do I remember His firsts are my forgottens, my refuse is His reception? Look to Him, He's looking at you.

You were them, now be me.

I begin to remember His words, you were lost and I found you,. You were forgotten and I remembered you. you were insignificant; I gave you value. You were dead; I made you alive. Be like them, come to me until you are touched, then come again. I make you who you are, rejection is an obstacle, not an identity.

Be like them, keep pushing, keep coming.

Mark 10

Do you see me?

...are they watching...
...do they see me...
...am I noticed...
...are they impressed...
...am I doing enough...
...am I important....

...AM I GOOD ENOUGH...

30 Fifth grade students stand together prepared to sing for their video-camera wielding parents. A few select are chosen to sing prepared solo's; though there's one student, unconcerned with the music, words, the former practice, tunnel-visioned to the affirmation of their parent. And at the most inopportune time shouting: "Dad, am I doing good?"

The definition of the person has begun to be written. It is by what I do that I am valued. The perceived thoughts and reactions of who I label as important, give my life meaning, daily looking for someone to put a price to who I am. The greater the price, the greater the significance. When I have little to offer, at least in their mind, and now my own, I have little value. "Dad, am I doing good?" - Do you think I'm important - your thoughts define me.

I sat frustrated, thoughts of inadequacy overwhelming truth: yes you may be good, but you will never be great, average among elite, forgotten amid the renown. Performance paradigm now deeply rooted as it was modeled at an early age. I have little worth when I am only able to offer what is modest. When I have little to profit from others' lives, I create minimal time for a person I view as having minimal importance. Selfishness in cycles: my own insecurity compounds theirs and back again. "Dad, am I doing good?" - Am I valuable? -

Selfishness, fear, insecurity disconnect reality. Truth remains, I am valuable enough that someone who had nothing to gain, gave himself up. Truth remains, my author went bankrupt to unchain me from selfishness, fear, insecurity. Truth remains, He did it all to look me in the eye:

"Andrew, you are worth it"

Who Changed?

I've heard it said. I've seen it happen, both progressively and in mere moments. A change in someone's life, amendments to their thoughts, actions, motivations, goals, values, ideas, identities. I've had moments in my life where instantaneous change has occurred, and times where conversion was processed and implemented over time. All of these episodes rooted in the unwavering, the unchanging presence.

I've heard it from many men, women, from different pulpits and various books, it is impossible to enter into the presence and leave unchanged. Everything within me agrees, except my experience. Recognizing the error in creating standards simply out of experience, questions rise in why change does not always occur, at least perceivably. That is, why do the same actions, lifestyles persist when the intimate moment is lost? Is the presence absent? Did rejection prevent its power? Is the change to subtle to notice? Did I leave too early? Did I... and I've already begun to be defeated, unrealized to the fact that a loyal love to Him forgets to worship myself.

Nevertheless, ignoring the self-absorbed questions leads to the answered truth, it is impossible to enter into the presence and leave unchanged. Internal renovation has occurred, but in the moments as I walked away from that time with Him, I again took control of my heart, reshaping what He restructured to what is comfortable to me, from what is new to what is old. My temporary surrender and unwillingness to give Him permanent control, in intimacy and out, refuses to allow life to exist in the vulnerability of His transformation. And I closed my eyes to trust.


Revolution happened.

And I lose control.