Dear Apathy:
I regret saying that it seems much more a burden to write you today than it has in days past. I know that, though I’ve frequently spoken my piece, as regarding our lackluster arrangements, my piece most frequently falls on ears that don’t hear. And, though this should probably be the anticipated result of trying to speak logical truths into a spiritual problem, I’m saddened anyway.
It is a taxing affair – no, an arrangement of anguish that keeps me watching you as you bring ruin, for some unknown season, to so many we know. Anguish, the fruit of this observation, mixed with my inability to dictate God’s timing in resolution, awakens me untold days. Anguish – grief and sorrow sanctioned by love – lays me down some nights and reminds me of you most days. O, Apathy.
I see so many of the youth that we know who, along with your comradery, dear Apathy, fail to step fully into Life. So many, so young with no joy, no enthusiasm, and hardly an expression of life at all to be seen. You keep so many frozen in perpetual adolescence. So many, so young, unconcerned, devoid of motivation but devoid of success and progression.
I see so many too in their greying years, still perpetually adolescent, who believe and proclaim that they’ve engaged the Spirit in earnest, while dismissing their lived, visible testimony of ceaseless days and hours spent on most anything at all other than visible, lived testimonies to their Christ.
O, Apathy. From hell you arise – thinking ever so freely, relaxed and uncommitted, unhindered but never achieving. Never reaching for that portion of glory that your Christ has set before you. But coddling, instead, your privacy, comfort, and rights.
And you, O, Christian: Today, let me encourage you now, lest these letters carry on forever, to take hold of your ways and the fruit of them and to own them all. Apathy and all. Hold them in front of your eyes and command your eyes to see the life that you lead. Own your life and command your ears to hear the message that each moment of it proclaims. Consider the sounds of the world that your life declares and then the sounds of Christ that you hear from yourself. Is He there? Does anyone see that you praise Him today?
Today, dear Christian, “take hold of the eternal life to which you were called”. Take hold of Him “who is the blessed and only Sovereign, the King of kings and Lord of lords”. Forsake the runways that lead you astray and then bomb them all. Bomb the runways and let no more time be pillaged in the name of boredom, or in the name of indecision, or in the name of laziness or lacking. Serve your Christ well.
Mothers, show your children a true, and joyous, and Spirit-filled life through Spirit-filled living. Fathers, petition the Christ whose kingdom you seek to mold you into a man on whose tombstone future generations will find written “IN ALL WAYS, A SUBJECT OF THE KING”.
Dear Christian, be this.
Dear Apathy, be dead.
