to make a difference, to be caught up in another sphere

"Rachael and I were touring Miami Beach. At one point, we walked in front of a wood slatted porch, maybe ten feet deep, with perhaps sixty feet of sidewalk frontage. At least a hundred chairs were arranged in neat rows and columns, none touching, each in exactly the same position to the others.

The occupied chairs (and most of them were) each held one motionless retired man or woman staring ahead at the street. I can't recall seeing anyone rocking. I do remember that no heads turned to follow a passing taxi or pedestrian, or to chat with another porch-sitter. I didn't see any crossed legs. There were no paperback novels or newspapers, not even a cup of coffee or a glass of iced tea. There was no conversation, no evidence that any of these people had been created by a relational God to enjoy intimate relating.

These people's souls were asleep, numbed, I suppose, by years of lifeless relationships and pointless conversations. No doubt those conversations had all seemed important at the time - business deals, romantic encounters, child scoldings, religious meetings - but maybe such encounters with other people had never touched anything deep enough to stir life.

I remember thinking, "All their lives everyone on this porch worked hard in Detroit or New York with the dream of retiring in Florida. And now they've made it. But look at them! Everything they've lived for has come to this. Lord, deliver me from living in a manner that will leave me one day sitting in a chair next to other people who are also sitting in chairs looking straight ahead, never into another person's eyes, never knowing anyone, and known by no one."

I want us to talk with each other, not merely to make conversation, but to make a difference, to be caught up in another sphere, the world of the Spirit, where first things are first and second things are second. I want us to experience a kind of oneness that makes us aware of what's best inside us and of all the bad stuff that blocks its release, a penetrating oneness that releases nice little boys to be men and sweet little girls to be women."

Larry Crabb