A New Fire

I couldn't have predicted this.

I mean, there are so many people in this world who need help. I always used to just look past the rowdy gangs of sketchy kids hanging around shopping malls. My mom and I would zip in and out of stores and there they would be, mindlessly wandering. I never thought much of them, in fact, I wanted nothing to do with them. They spend their days wasting time because that's the place to where they have led themselves. No one taught them to fight for better. No one gave them a reason. So why, and how would they? They are broken and see no way out. The rest of us have a certain societal structure to our lives. We have these common  expectations that we would never think to question. We get up, go to school, go to work, and use our gifts to give us a good life. But what if no one taught you how to do that. What if you couldn't get yourself to do that because you weren't trained to have that desire. What if you had no one who cared enough to say to you "you can be more." Or what if it was so hard just to be alive, that you had no strength to fight for more?

He sits on the railing about four feet across from me. There is something about his eyes that I can't stop noticing. They have this original rich saddened desperation. Like he's been helplessly screaming for help his whole life and I'm witnessing the moment where he gives up. I want to stand up, look him in those broken eyes, and say, "Trust me. Follow me. Let me show you what can make things better." But it's not that simple. He has known me for three days. He has his own mind, his own questions, his own theories. Why would he listen to me. 

The October air slices across our faces as we sit in the cold. It is almost 9:40 PM. There is full moon above us. I catch him gazing up at it occasionally, as he drills me with questions. I fire back answer after answer, desperately trying to strike a chord. But I only find him more aggravated and confused. He zips up his hoodie and tries not to look at me as he responds to my last answer.

"That's the thing with you Christians, you just have an answer for everything." 

I look up at him with a loss of words. 

"See. I got you speechless!" He says to me. 

However, I am far from speechless. I haven't had this many thoughts in months. I look out into the familiar empty parking lot and attempt to gather the response he needs to hear. 

What fascinates me the most is what a contradiction he is. He is brilliant yet broken. I don't understand why he has this mind but is living this kind of life. It just didn't seem to fit. He looked so...dead. It's like he is a soldier desperately wanting to fight but doesn't know where or how to start. Witnessing him in this useless state is like watching myself suffer. It reminds me of the days when I do nothing. I sit around in my room, bathing in my unproductively.  Lying around, eating, sleeping, watching TV. It's this the cycle of nothingness that tries to destroy you. I can tell the cycle has already destroyed a good portion of him. For me it always lasts only a few days here and there, sometimes a few hours. But for him, it's somehow become his current life. Part of me wants to commit to helping him and part of me wants to stand up and leave this all behind before it's too late. I figure our theological debate is  going nowhere anyway, I might as well give up. But something tells me that walking away now would be a huge mistake.

Once I'm in bed at home, I decide to open up my bible to where I left off this morning in Matthew. I flip through the book until I reach one of my favorite verses, underlined in red ink.

"Ask and it will be given to you; seek and you will find; knock and the door will be opened to you. For everyone who asks receives; he who seeks finds; and to him who knocks, the door will be opened."

Matthew 7:7-8

I put the bible down on the pillow next to me and sit in silence. I'm going to show him the door. I'm going to show him that he doesn't have to be afraid to open it. I then realize that not only his life will be changed, but mine too. Just when you feel God has lifted his hands from your life and given up on you he directly hands you a new challenge- one that you would least expect to find. 

From photo shoots in the woods to anxiety attacks to late night meet ups with lost fighters. It's like I'm always either on fire or putting out a fire. Or maybe I'm always doing both. I don't know. There is just something so beautiful about being sixteen.