Being from the Midwest, I was raised into a time honored tradition of Americana. My neighborhoods were mostly white, comprised of conservative, evangelical folks, simple people in a moderately simple place. I knew no struggles in life. Food was on the table, mother and father were employed, and I was a perfect little school boy, donned with a red backpack.
Life certainly is a journey. God promises us that He knows the plans for each and every one of us. I could not tell you how many times I have wrestled with that promise. When I really get down to it, how can a God who is so omnipotent, really, honestly care about me? This is not some form of self-hatred revealed in theological speech, this is a conundrum that each individual must wrestle through.
God created me for a purpose, as He did each individual. Of that I am certain. I did not know such things at the time, but even then, as I stood before my townhouse, gazing into my mostly WASP neighborhood, I have come to realize that God's hand was, and is, and will always be on my life.
This is not a blog of a political activist, though activism of a political nature will be discussed here certainly. This is not a website poised at praising one idealism, promoting a basecamp, encapsulating a message. These words posted are meditations, thoughts, journal entries that desire a return of dialogue. I find in this recent journey more and more the need to express not one position in this great debate, but to constantly build connections, rooted in the Cross of Christ, and cemented in honest, raw, emotional humility. Let God guide the words and messages of these web pages.
Amen.
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