This isn't a story about the brighter side of things, or greener grass.
I see green grass all the time in Washington state. (Though brightness isn't something to be expected in the winter here...)
It's frustrating to do hard things.
Talking to lost, misfit people is like trying to catch a frisbee with oven-mitts on.
But nonetheless, talk I do. Because it's the lost ones that I want to engage.---the ones who fit into society as well as a square peg in a round nostril. Even if they somehow wedge themselves in, it's super uncomfortable for the nose!
The posers deserve my attention. my valid conversation. my honest heart.
The overlooked and ashamed, that's who I'm hoping to get to know.
The embroiled and the blind need my compassion.
The idiots too. They need patient understanding from me. As hard as it is for me to say, those "idiots" who I can't help but rage at, within my heart, they need what I've been given.
I'm not doing a great job by my own standards, yet.
I'm just telling you what I see on the horizen.
I am called to be a Shepherd of God's people. And that means I leave the 99...
hmm.
...I wonder what that feels like.
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