Jack outside of the Box

I'm still reeling from my trip to New York. Manhattan is overwhelming, seeing family is good, the shows were fun, Q was a ton of great information, but none of those things were the most important part.

Over the last month, I've allowed myself to get stuck in a box. I've given this box names like "the suburbs of San Antonio" or "being single." I whined about how it's crushing my spirit. I've complained that there's no hope for me here, and I'm not sure where.

Being in New York reminded me that there is a bigger world out there. It reminded me there are other people like me: young, passionate Christ-followers, trying to figure out how to make a difference in their generation. There are single people serving God. There are people who want to plant urban, not just suburban, churches. There are people striving to find the balance between the gospel of individual atonement and societal justice and reconciliation. There are people who want to share the gospel and build community in the creative, artistic, urban centers of the world.

There are people doing this all around the U.S. and the world. There are people doing this in politics, art, business and the church. They are black, white, asian and hispanic. They are rich and poor. They work for startups and multinational corporations. They are married and live in the suburbs. They have no kids and live in the city. Some of them are even cute girls.

And knowing that you're out there is like popping out of the box. I can see all around. Knowing you're there makes the world look better, and the box not seem so bad.