Am I the Only One?

God of the Open Sky,

Will you smile on me?

I am a rotten child,

in spiritual poverty.

God of the Open Sky,

How I long to know,

the feeling of total love,

Without work of my own.

When I do stumble,

When I want to fall,

When I find it hard sometimes to pray at all,

God of the Open Sky,

hear my plea ,

and save me from everything,

inside of me.

I attend a birthday gathering, some normal folk are there; unbelievers. Is that how all people must be defined? The party is a surprise at the gym. I am driving after sunset, down the streets of this town. The light from the street lamps bounce in succession off the car's paint. I think he is a Christian—and by his demeanor, you could tell. My Spirit doth testify. Sharp face, innocent attitude, fat: nonexistent. He said he was graduating from a Christian school.

Before the drive, before the turn of the key—I see them, man and woman, kissing in the darkness. They stroll and pass the car before I back up. The woman seems more contented at the time of the kiss then after. “How lovely,” I think, still delirious from my workout. The air, the unbelievers, the innocence, it hit me: “Are Christians people that believe the world can get better?” A deep question for the dark drive home but I probe again, “Are they?”

I suddenly remember how uncomfortable it had been to be surrounded by individuals of unknown affiliations. “What is wrong with me?”

I remember learning to be a warrior, long before the workout with torn black tees that stick to my chest from sweat. There were always near ten of us. Men gathered in an upper room somewhere in the night of New York City. Men I always felt less holy than. They preached on trains and to strangers. I did some but not to their humble fame. I watched video after video, learning to feel bad about who I was. Videos of men snapping their fingers: “People are dying without Jesus,” men warning against the dangers of media mind control: “watch for the third eye,” men speaking on the power of succubi: “they are most powerful at night, look in the mirror.” People needed to be saved in this city; why wasn't I saving them? “What is wrong with me?”

I am in the car: are Christians just waiting for the world to end? I ignore this question and go back to the first one, to the kissing. “Would it still have been beautiful if they were cheating on their spouses?” I inquire of the air. Thank God no one answers. I start again from another angle: “Are Christians people that believe that the world can get better?” “Well,” I begin, “in order for the world to get better, one must admit that it is currently in an undesirable state” Point:Jesus. The rest, from here seems to fall into an apologetic sandwich (yes, I am hungry). “If the world is not in a good state on its own, then it can not do it by itsself: people can not be good on their own; just look around.” I continue, “In order for their to be change, a third party must be introduced, one that surpasses the limitations of the human condition.” Now for the wrap-up: “enter the Holy Spirit, which changes us from the inside- out, made possible by the sacrifice of Jesus Christ.”

Christians are people that not only hope for a better world, they attempt through the power of God to change its people for the better of us all.

Point: Jesus.

In Him,

Jean-Marc