Wednesday, I surfaced from my subterranean office to take a leisurely walk around campus and enjoy the weather. I really is a wonderful place to walk. This is something I should do much more often.

With the birds and their song being a presence impossible not to notice, I was moved to ponder Christ's teachings about the sparrows. I first thought about the instinctual fear birds have towards humans. I've never seen the movie (and this statement will remain intact for the remainder of my years), but I have existed in Disney's America long enough to have seen the clips of Snow White gracefully singing and walking about the forest as small songbirds flitted about on her appendages. I wondered if Adam and Eve had the "privilege" of being swarmed by birds. I would be all for it if the birds could/would do my bidding.

Then I started thinking about the sidewalk. I thought about how this very sidewalk fits into God's design. Although, I will fail to even begin to understand the multitude of purposes it is assigned to in the larger scheme of things.

On the whole, my scriptural ponderings, as you can see, were not exploding with profundity.

Much later that evening, I found myself at the Cox Convention Center in downtown OKC. It was late and I was packing up a metric buttload of audio-video gear belonging to the production company for which I do very scant, part-time work. That nite, I had the privelege of running camera for a high school graduation. There is not a terrible lot to say about the event.

So, I was transporting packed gear from one side of the arena to the company van on the other side. This little trek led me through the orchestration that was the setting up hundreds of chairs, performed by a number of the convention center's employees. It was an interesting group--A heavy-set, middle-aged man in overalls, a man that was probably much younger than what his grey-bearded, haggard face made him appear to be, and a tall, skinny woman who, upon looking at her, you would have a fairly good idea as to how her skeleton looks.

I will confess. Upon seeing such people in such occupations, I oft feel a sense of pity mixed with notions of existentialism. I wonder what it is that gets them out of bed--what it is for which they are living. I think of the Leonard Cohen lyric,"You're living for nothing now; I hope you are keeping some kind of record." It just seems like an alien existence, and I want to know what that looks like. It needs to be logged, so I can marvel at how they exist amidst the nothingness.

Fortunately, I caught myself that nite. Well, the Word--not I--caught me. The memory of my pondering on Christ's teachings of the sparrow while enjoying a beautiful day struck me. I was forced to realize that these people are not alone, and they are certainly not existing in a void. How arrogant it would be for me to think that I am the only sparrow. To think that I am of the few that believe enough to perceive beauty and meaning and worth in the things around me.

I was forced to realize that God cares for these people to the extent that he continues to give them breath and expose them to meaning and beauty and work and responsibility and family and friends. It is I, in my humanity--my creaturehood, that deny the Creator's meaningful blessings that surround these people. I steal away this meaning in order to "build up" my faith in Christ as the only means to experience these forementioned good things. In my twisted way of thinking, this is an evangelical tool (on which I, in my cowardice, never act upon--which might be a good thing), as I can intellectually slam these peoples' lives as utterly empty existence. Plus, it is easier to write someone off as hopeless when you perceive they exist in another world in which there is no meaning.

But, my way of thinking is just not true. The truth of the matter is that I live in the same world they do. I exist on the same plane. Believers certainly have the gift of the Spirit, the Word, and the fear of God that grants them access to special revelation. This does not consequently mean that the unbeliever has nothingness. Even if they choose to think they have nothingess, why should I join in and help "suppress the truth" with and for them.

I manage to deny God's general revelation and mentally alienate people a lot. Furthermore, I assume unbelief a lot. I fail to understand the Gospel and all the blessings by which I am continually surrounded. Thus, I fail to understand the people by whom I am continually surrounded. I can relate to God, because he became a man. And, yet I refuse to believe I can relate to other men?

Having only thought about these things amidst the noise of working, I felt pretty crappy when I prayed before going to bed that nite. I finally really repented. I was thankful for the Word and the work of the Spirit. And, overall, I was assured by having severely felt my need for Christ that day.