When I guess I must admit that I was wrong, I mean to say I never really knew what it was I wanted. That's not true either I suppose. I suspect that what I really mean to say is that I didn't actually know the full ramifications of what I prayed for.
I believe that I can be fairly certian of the accuracy of the following statement: most people do not automaticallly assume the relevence of a debate about the linear quality of Human Rights along a progressive spectrum to a conversation about their friends only trying to obtain a girlfriend.
Fundamentally, the problem is not that I cannot judge on a sliding scale, or that my friends aren't allowed to make mistakes, or even that I cannot hold them accountable. The real issue is how or why did I notice? Perhaps I am learning the difficult lesson of Christianity [or at least one of many]: that the Christian lifestyle can be silently radical and peacefully radical; but radical none the less. As I grow and slowly obtain the memory of God for oppressed, and seek to see things through his eyes, ever once in a while: I DO. I see things as no other around me does. This means that the general level of discomfort I have is steadily increasing everyday not just about things I see around me, but perhaps even things I say.
I was wrong: discomfort has inherent value. It means I don't belong here.
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It just inspires me to see anyone take the time to ponder such things at all. To often I just "say" and "do", never taking the time to care one way or the other. I get a little cynical at times and think such musings are for the young. You inspire me to be more sensitive to those around me,in a world full of blsessings I too often take fro granted. But.... I'm biased when it comes to you! I'm so proud of you! Now if I embarrassed you tell everyone I'm the senile uncle from Abilene that the family doesn't talk about.
Love you,
Brian
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