Detroit Dreamin'
 
Good Saturday morning to you all. Normally I don't give two cares about the dreams I have, because they don't make much sense or I forget them by the time they wake. But last night I had two really vivid, emotional dreams.

The first was no big deal, but it was still very vivid. I dreamt that one of my best friends was moving away and I would never see them again. And I remember just being crushed in that dream and extremely depressed that I would never again get to talk or hang out with my best friend. No big deal, though, because that was one of those dreams where you wake up and go, "hmm, that was weird."

The second dream, however, stuck with me.

I dreamt I was back in high school. But this time, instead of the standard dream about not having homework done, things were different. I was at an outdoor memorial service. Four teenagers had died in various car accidents from my school. The names that were read aloud at the service scared me, because in real life they are names of people I haven't though of in years. But it turned out in the dream that one of the students didn't die, and was hanging back at the fringes of the crowd. So I went and talked with her about the accident. And I told her about Christ and how if she had died without knowing Him, she would have gone to hell.

When I woke up, that dream was still with me. See, I was very standoffish in high school. I was the type of Christian who felt he would be defiled by hanging out with "the sinners." I had a bit of a complex mixed with very low self esteem, so I would try and get through the days without speaking to anyone. I would sit in the same journalism class for three years with ten girls and not say a word or start a friendship with any of them (I'm kicking myself for spiritual and other reasons now...some of those girls were very cute!)

Now I wonder where they're at. Are they happy? Successful? Most importantly: do they know God? Have any of them died without hearing the gospel? Will any of them go through the rest of their lives without hearing that God came to Earth and died for them? For many of them, was I the only chance that they would ever have to hear the gospel? Why didn't I step outside of my comfort zone and take a chance? Why did I hold onto my low self esteem? Why did I place myself on a holier-than-thou pedestal? Why didn't I just try to take a chance, even if they would have thought me a fool?

And why haven't things changed?

I'm not still holier-than-thou (I hope.) I am actually a bit more outgoing, especially at work, where I always have a witty, sarcastic comment. And I've realized that I have just the same amount of sin in my own life as those I would previously look down upon.

But sharing the gospel is not a priority to me. I don't open my mouth to speak words of hope. When someones down, I don't make an effort to see why. I don't live with a contagious faith and if we're called to live the Great Comission, I can't get my butt out of Judea.

Do we seriously think it doesn't matter? We, who profess to each other the great hope and peace that comes in Christ, why do we keep this like a secret? Why do we say "you have to get in church" without telling someone why? We worry about sharing our faith because people will think we're crazy. . . what does that say about our own belief?

The greatest regrets I have come from not making an effort in my teenage years. I don't want that to change and look back and see that my 20s (which will be half over on Tuesday) are my Next Big Regret.

Something's gotta change.

C-Dubbs