It's Time to Show Love to the World

I’m a writer. So look, I get it.Much of my life is spent cloistered in a room, thumping away at a keyboard, buried in a Thesaurus, looking heavenward for wisdom from the gods to trickle down onto my fat little fingers. How arrogant of me, I often think, that I believe my opinion matters or that somehow, what I say might have even the most miniscule impact on human existence. What kind of hubris must exist that I think what I say might touch someone in a profound way? But yet I soldier on.When Facebook started, people salivated at the thought of a blank canvas to say, essentially carte blanche, whatever it was they wanted to say. Facebook provided something that, for some, had been previously relatively small: an AUDIENCE.To be sure, those who had few friends or many friends—renegades, rednecks, rubes, simpletons, scoundrels, and saints—could now shout their opinions on myriad matters to hundreds—dare I say—thousands of people.So we came, we shared, we posted, we added, we deleted, and we conquered.Doubtless that Facebook has provided me a greater audience, too, and I am not saying that there is anything inherently evil about the site.But this has gotten ridiculous.We are living life by leaning back in our swivel chairs and postulating theories across the digital universe. Facebook has become a one-stop-shop where we can do basically anything we want to do. Heck, I just booked a reservation at a restaurant over Facebook. Tomorrow, I think I may go fishing on Facebook. Catch me a good bass.Facebook is so convenient for us. That little birthday reminder pops up and we write two words topped off with seventeen exclamation points and think that’s good enough. We lob opinions up on the newsfeed like grenades and call ourselves humanitarians as the steam from our $5 lattees wafts throughout our heavily-freoned rooms, and then vilify anyone who offers even the slightest bit of opposition as if their attitude is morally reprehensible and unforgivable. We take thirty seconds to read what someone else said, share it, and call ourselves “activists” BUT do nothing to help the person on the street.Out in the real world, we cruise around town mindlessly in our Audis, past abject poverty, past the panhandler squatting with his handwritten sign, past the woman wearing a shower cap and fussing with her nightgown on the front porch.And we’re so sad. So very sad.While all the while, people are hurting. Like, really hurting. Today in America, 1.5 million people will not sleep with a roof over their head. In January 2015, over 92 million Americans did not participate in the workforce. Countless veterans, legless and hunching over in wheelchairs, need our care. Widows and orphans desperately need our help. Boys need father figures and girls need ladies who can teach them how to be one. Someone, right now, is loading a gun, preparing to die, and in a matter of minutes a bullet will penetrate flesh, tendon, and bone, ending a life. Millions are battling addiction, poverty, depression, and hopelessness. Still others are staring down fists raised in anger and words that cut like razorblades. And this is in their own home.Sure, it’s easy to stand back on our moral high-ground, chest-out, and believe we’re heroic because we said shared a post or put up a temporary Facebook profile supporting our valued cause. To sit back behind a computer screen, pose as Good Samaritans and elite moral agents, and then verbally clobber anyone who opposes our point of view. The hard thing to do is to actually get our hands and feet dirty by helping someone.But the aforementioned problems will not be eliminated behind a computer screen. They will be eliminated when we walk out into the world with open hands and hearts, ready to serve those who truly need us most.But no, no. That’s too inconvenient.Folks, we’ve become lazy.We’re too lazy to call people at the most important moments of their lives. We’d rather fire off a text and keep things at arms-distance, because heaven forbid we actually have to talk to someone for five minutes. The thought of handwriting a letter, an exercise that most of us have not accomplished in years, falls into the category of “excruciating.”The real truth: People need to hear our voice. They need to feel the touch of a hug. They need to receive the joy of a smile. They need to see that we’ve taken the time to handwrite a thank-you note.Taking an assessment of my own life, I find that I am bad as anybody. I have let social media steal too much of my time. I have to remind myself to do.The problem with our society today is that we are living too much on social media. We’re fighting our fights on social media. It’s much easier to delete someone who you don’t agree with than to physically kick them out of a room if you don’t like what they have to say. But—here’s a strange thought—how about leaning in and actually having civil discourse about hot topics of American culture? It’s amazing how many experts have emerged on tons of topics, but one must wonder what kind of information (or misinformation) we’re hanging our beliefs on.We live in the lalalala, ears-closed age. Don’t like what someone has to say?Delete.Unfollow.I’m guilty, too.So why do I even write? I write because I believe that’s what I was called to do. I write because I still believe writing can make an impact on humanity.But even then, I wonder if it’s enough.A few weeks ago, I was really down on myself and I wondered if I was doing all I could to help mankind. Sure, I was trying to encourage people with my writing, to help others to think outside of their little boxes, but what was I really doing to help? I help people all the time, but I mean, it wasn’t like I was down at the soup kitchen every Friday, serving meals to the dejected and downtrodden. It’s not like I’ve got an awesome mission trip planned over the Christmas holidays.But as I was Eeyoring through the day, I realized that I can still serve God through my writing, and I shouldn’t diminish that.So that’s what I do. More importantly, it’s who I am.But I also realized that writing, alone, is not enough. I must walk out into the world. My words mean nothing, they are cacophony, if I do not show love and compassion to those I encounter along life’s uncertain road. As the Bible says, “Faith without works is dead.”You believe in something? Good, good. Great post.Now show it.That’s what I have to tell myself.God is calling His church to get off of their butts, get off the couches, the swivel chairs, turn off the TV, log off, and go help somebody. To enter worlds where people might smell a little different, where jaundiced eyes look at you with despair, where God’s broken children cover themselves with smoke-burnished, tattered clothes because it’s all they’ve got, where children’s feet are begrimed from the grit of grocery store floors, where people don’t know Christmas like we know it.Grace, grace, grace. The world needs it in large doses.See you around. 78