Sunday

I can hear the bands playing in the distance - the beat of drums and muted screams. Chicken is on... the brass is starting. And I sit here in my tent. Why? I haven't a clue. I sit here and feel like crying.I'm not sad, not tired, not disappointed and not stressed. What is wrong with me then? Is it a flaw in who I am?

Who am I? I am the man too passionate to stop and too determined to back down. In the absence of any gifting or ability, this detrmination makes me an achiever of whatever I set my mind to. It is my awareness of my lack of gifting and ability that drives me to God so hard daily for the things I can't do - and there will always be so many of these.

Why am I here? I'm here to reproduce my faith in the "one world" generation - the children of the digital age who cross age, race, nationality, religion and social taboos in a few keystrokes. These kids can be some of the most potent missionaries the world has ever seen, because they live in a world of global compatriotism. Such men and women can cross cultural and distance barriers effortlessly to communicate what they believe and to stand up for the pain of their international friends.

Now how do I give these kids vision? How do I explain to them that they can be the ones? I suppose they don't even realise they care yet...