So there I was, driving down the road arguing with God...

Seriously.

I was driving down the road having a conversation of sorts with God. Well, this just happened to be one of those times I did more listening to HIM than talking until...

I realized what HE wanted me to do.

I have been writing a book entitled "Porn-Star".

I have struggled with the content, the language, certain specific subject matter, and pretty much the entire book as a whole.

But I know, the book will reach those who desperately need it.

I still question myself which, somewhat feels like questioning God's command.

I realized he wants me to write about some of the darkest, most evil, topics the world has to offer.

"Whoa" I respond.

"God, I don't think I like that too much. First of all, there are a lot of people out there who are better at writing than I am, who are much more prepared for this. And secondly, your talking about a book of proverbial train-wreck after train-wreck. Why can't I write a comedy? At least people won't be depressed by the end of the first chapter."

God said..."No, you can't write a comedy."

So I've got that going on in my head and I continue to engage in this debate with God. Sometimes when I write, I sit back, read what I just wrote, and say to myself out loud: "damn dude, you can't publish that".

"God, maybe I should tone it down."

"No."

"God, I should take out the bad words."

"No."

"God, can I exclude suicide."

"No."

This is no romantic dream sequence simply fabricated by a writer. The previous three questions are among many I have literally asked God. I have tried, time and again, to find a reason not to write and dwell in such dark places.

God knows this, and has had a great deal of patience with me concerning this. Then God allows me to remember, and take a fresh new look at a conversation HE had with Moses.

Moses is out tending sheep and sees a burning bush and God starts talking to him. Yeah, it's a little weird. God tells Moses, a shepherd, that he's going to free the Hebrew people from Egypt. How does Moses respond?

"But why me? What makes you think that I could...?"

God continues to try and assure Moses he can do it and Moses responds:

"They won't trust me. They won't listen to a word I say. They're going to say, 'GOD? Appear to him? Hardly!'"

God continues to assure Moses he can do it but this time, HE shows Moses. Again, Moses makes another futile attempt to persuade God that he feels inept.

"Master, please, I don't talk well. I've never been good with words, neither before nor after you spoke to me. I stutter and stammer."

I don't know what exactly God has in store for this work. But I do know one thing about it. There are millions of people suffering from this life and there is a cure, and HIS name is Jesus Christ. Millions of people are as slaves, shackled by pain. Some feel that the only escape is just one more high, one more orgasm, or one more attempt at ending their life. Someone has to reach them and let them know that Jesus Christ is the cure.

I'm not that pretentious that I believe I can free millions from the veritable bonds of slavery.

But God can.

Friends don't let friends open their mouths when speaking...

I ran into a old friend yesterday.

As we spoke about the recent suicide of a mutual friend of ours with whom we served in the war, I remembered something I wrote recently:

Over the years, like most of my friends from the war, I inadvertently run in to one or the other amid a hurried schedule. It begins with an excited greeting, a hug, and an uncontrollable smile. We give each other a quick run-down of what’s going on in each other’s life, commit to keeping in touch by phone, and promise to get together sometime which usually never happens. We say good-bye, give another hug, and part ways. Every time that happens, I feel euphoric about the encounter.

It never fails.

That is the way it goes every time.

And yesterday, that was the way it was going.

There is one thing I want to change:

Each time we declare our promise to keep in touch, we know that it’s probably not going to happen. We know before it’s said, we’re probably not going to put forth enough effort to make a phone call.

I thought about our friend who committed suicide. I thought of all the ways I could have witnessed to her about Jesus. Not that I knew her that well or had many chances, but I’m sure I could have made attempts. I could have been a better example while we were deployed during the war instead of frolicking in sin like a child dancing in a candy store.

I could have started by actually being a friend.

I could have let her know, I mean really know, she could call me for anything.

Not to get preached to by a Jesus freak, but to be listened to.

Maybe this is a fundamental lesson Jesus has been trying to teach me all along. That preaching the gospel isn’t necessarily preaching, or even speaking at all.

It’s listening.

It’s setting the example.

You see, I’m not gonna go to hell for my sin.

But my actions can damn sure arm the unsaved with just enough reason to justify their continuing down a road of brokenness, eventually leading straight to hell.

Maybe I’m not responsible, but I have damn sure contributed.