D-d-d-d-d-d-damn.

I am exhausted. I left, and there were still women up laughing, and talking their way through the halls of the church. I'm getting my ass kicked in late-night vitality by a bunch of pentecostal women. That's not right. Sadly, my partying days, pentecostal or otherwise, seem to be over.

So, today was a whirlwind day of speakers, worship, and fun. Debbie Lindell, Casey Gibbons, Nancy Alcorn, and Lisa Bevere. Whew! Smart ladies, great speakers. I'll be sorting through their ideas for awhile. The worship was great--my back muscles seem to be getting into the swing of things. And the fun. Oh, the fun. So, call me cheesy, I don't care. I was totally bowled over during the presentation of the jewelry. As the guitar guys played Plain White Ts, I looked up to take it all in--bubbles floating down from the ceiling amidst the sparkling, technicolor chandeliers; the guys serving up tiny, ribbon-wrapped jewelry boxes. It was one of life's perfect moments.

All of that is relatively insignificant.

I have learned so much tonight. My exhaustion won't do it justice. That's ok.

First of all, I'm sponsoring a kid from Haiti through Mission of Mercy. I recognized, as I was picking up the packet, that a skeptic (like myself, outside of this weekend) could argue that I only did it because I felt trapped, drawn in by the cleverly-planned flow of the evening. I don't know, maybe that's true. But I have felt for so long that I needed to do something like that. I've researched a few options, even. I've just never made the committment. Meanwhile, I've talked a bluestreak about the importance of making committments to advanced the sacrificial love of Christ. Ouch. D-d-d-d-d-damn. Schooled.

I realized in that moment that I have been faking it, of a sort. I have been investing my time and intellect in a very powerless Christ. I've claimed that He has power. I have talked, tirelessly (and passionately!), about how Jesus lived to the point of death so that we might all understand a new morality, a new love. But I haven't done anything, but talk. I haven't stepped out to make that committment to show that love. When faced with opportunities, I've said "Oh, that charity might be corrupt, I'll find another," or "Maybe I'll help out with that, when I have more time."

I have claimed to be submitting to an all-powerful Savior, but in fact I have created a powerless figurehead for a God, and required his submission to me. Again, d-d-d-d-d-d-damn.

So. I took my bible. I took a walk. I took a seat on the grass. And I made a promise. It went something like this: "Lord, I am ALL in. ALL in. Take me where you will. If you are in, I'm in, and I am ready to live courageously to see this world restored."

Clever flow, indeed.