When I was seventeen I was a genius. A serious, going-to-change the world type of genius. So I did what every red-blooded Arizona border town kid does—packed up my guitar and headed for NYC to play music on the streets.
See? Genius.
I limped back home some months later with a smashed hand and about thirty pounds lighter.
By then I’d turned eighteen… still a genius.
Funny, now I’m thirty-nineteen and I don’t know anything. The God of my youth I graciously invited along on my life-adventures has proved himself in these middle years a great and wonderful mystery. I’ve seen Him do amazing things. Miracles really. I’ve tagged along as He’s reached out and touched the broken, stoned, poor, wealthy, and arrogant. From prisons to castles He’s taught me He’s no respecter of persons, but loves equally and completely. His love crosses every nationality, border, and sin. Even mine. Even yours.
I don’t want to change the world anymore. Just allow myself to be changed. To tag along and be a blessing to the one, not the masses. To reach out and take the hand of the Father Who offers me breath. He pats me on the head and says, “Okay. Now watch Me change the world. Starting with you.”
That’s fine with me.
Being a genius is exhausting.
Fair winds!
Buck
See? Genius.
I limped back home some months later with a smashed hand and about thirty pounds lighter.
By then I’d turned eighteen… still a genius.
Funny, now I’m thirty-nineteen and I don’t know anything. The God of my youth I graciously invited along on my life-adventures has proved himself in these middle years a great and wonderful mystery. I’ve seen Him do amazing things. Miracles really. I’ve tagged along as He’s reached out and touched the broken, stoned, poor, wealthy, and arrogant. From prisons to castles He’s taught me He’s no respecter of persons, but loves equally and completely. His love crosses every nationality, border, and sin. Even mine. Even yours.
I don’t want to change the world anymore. Just allow myself to be changed. To tag along and be a blessing to the one, not the masses. To reach out and take the hand of the Father Who offers me breath. He pats me on the head and says, “Okay. Now watch Me change the world. Starting with you.”
That’s fine with me.
Being a genius is exhausting.
Fair winds!
Buck