you don't have to pay -- i've got all the change

Ugh... why do I feel like everyone is getting older while I stay the same age?

Are either of us the worse for it?

Last night, I'm working with this 17-year-old kid, and we're conversing about the state of the church and the plight of the needy, like we've been friends for... seventeen years. And it's not until hours later that I recognize that I was barely short of seventeen myself when this kid was born.

Tell me again: how is the most meaningful conversation I've had all week? Where have all the cowboys gone?

I think the problem is that my peers are doing their best to fulfill life goals while I haven't ceased my dreaming. It's not that my life has been a waste; if God has decided that I best honor Him through the spurring of others, then I've done well for Him. Not to say I couldn't be more diligent, but how do I speak about reformation to those who've stopped dreaming? How can a man be challenged if he's received his reward in full?

He can't. He won't. He'll resist it at all costs.

My old ministry friend Karl once said, "I don't work with young people because I like working with young people, though I do. I work with young people because they're not ashamed to respond to their passion."

That's all this is. Age aside, I'm not expecting anything short of a reformational work of God, and the level of passion required implies a certain recklessness.

It requires playfulness and imagination.

Not the kind of imagination where we conjure up our own ideas about God and His church, but the kind that says, "I wouldn't put anything past my God. He is capable of all things."

Most importantly, He's capable of building the church He said He would.

We must first decide that the one we've built sucks. Can't get around that step. It correlates with the dreaming: if the church (as it stands) fulfills everything you've ever wanted in life, you'll fight to the death to protect its function -- same as you would your family, property, or financial portfolio. You have to be dissatisfied with an Ishmael to be open to an Isaac.

Maybe it's easier for me because I have nothing to protect. Perhaps my communion with the teenage brat is no more complicated than that. Again, it's not so much that I haven't grown up; it's that others have. We merely grew into different dreams.

If a five-year-old would join me in my dream, we would have more in common than I do with my peers. In between jumps on the trampoline, we'd discuss the glory of God on his terms. We'd climb to the treetop and marvel at His majesty. We'd read a fascinating story and laugh at His imagery.

I can't imagine doing that with a peer. I can barely muster an interesting conversation.

Okay?