This seems like a simple, almost elementary point, but it is one that I very often desperately to hear. The reminder that I am an alien in this land came at a perfect time in my life. In an attempt to seek and save the world, I often start to look like it. I want to be accepted by it, impressed by, mesmerized by it, yet somehow not of it. Why do I think that is possible?
I was reminded of challenge I read in a book edited by C.J. Mahanney that posed the question: if someone took all the music I listen to, the clothes I wear, the conversations I have, what I think about, and what I spend my money on, and reviewed it all in a file, could they tell I am a born-again believer? Do I live like a real Christian? They who “act out their witness through their dialectical experience of everyday life.”? Am I walking hagiasmo or am I on a path of destruction?