Why do I....

Feel so crazy at times. 

It's like I am going to explode. 

So much passion and so much angst,

but I can't really say why. 

Well I can.  

I just can't tell you why it affects me like it does.

I'd like to believe in something different. 

That something better can exist.

I'd like to think that people deep inside know something is wrong.

I'd like to think that people are tired of living for meaningless things. 

I'd like to think that people want to make a difference.  

I am not really sure what has happened to me over the last few months.  My passions have changed. I am thinking about things like trying to take in foster kids. I think about moving into a trailer park so I  can hang out with poor people. I think about moving to India to work with orphans.  I think about those things because I want to make a difference.  What am I going to do in this world that will prove that Jesus really loves? 

 What has happened to me where I feel completely jacked up throwing away food? Not because I should eat it, just because it's there, but because I should not have bought it in the first place. I feel jacked up because I could have actually used the money for something positive. I feel jacked up because it only costs 30 dollars a month to sponsor a child, and I just threw money away. Why am I trying to figure out how I can live on less money so I can give more away? 

I will tell you why.  Jesus is doing something in my heart. I can't even totally explain it.  On one hand it is so good.  I have not felt this passionate in years. I feel like I want really learn how to follow Him.  Really follow Him. On the other hand I feel torn up.  I feel torn up by the affluent society that surrounds me and the conditions of poverty that exist all through out the world.  I feel torn up because most Christians don't seem to care (though I must admit, I have not cared most of my life). I feel torn up, because I want to do more, but I have no idea where to start. I feel like the guy in Shindler's List, where at the end he breaks down and he asks how much more could he have done had he sold his gold pen.  He then looks at his other possessions and ponders with sorry how many more Jews he could have saved had he sold more stuff.  Can you feel good and tortured at the same time?  That is how I feel. 

I guess I need an outlet to figure out and process these emotions.  I think this blog is that outlet.