Living in Ink

I just watched Ocean's Eleven again recently. The team uses a pinch to take out all of Las Vegas' power for thirty seconds to accomplish their heist of a casino. The movie flashes between different scenes - of a crowd watching a boxing fight, shouting, and then suddenly

darkness.

They're all in darkness.

The camera shows the whole city alight from afar, and then you see the millions of lights and flashes. . . wipe out. The whole city sits in darkness.

As I watched, I was struck thinking of every single person in the city experiencing this darkness. Whatever they were doing must have been stopped. Someone could have been getting married, having a baby, or

dying

in that darkness.

Everyone's life was affected. Each situation changed.
A hush could have fallen. Or a scream could rise up in the night.
Pandemonium, chaos,
or silent sobs.
Each person grasping the person next to them, fingers grabbing that skin, the warm skin of someone,
to know they weren't alone.
Whatever happened, wherever they were, they all felt that same darkness.

They were blinded.
Gripped with fear.
And lost.

And as I was thinking it over,
I realized that this darkness. . . it's real.

The whole world is plunged in ink.
Everyone's wandering through their life,
searching,
seeking,
pouring themselves out to find satisfaction.
And not finding it, in the end.

And really, they're all lost.

The reality of it is clear and I want to weep. This truth always strikes me on occasion: that the world is lost. But I so easily forget it. . .

I never want to lose the impact of that truth, God. 

Never. 


Because then I won't be living with the right goals in mind. That passion for the lost is in your heart, I know it. And to follow you, I want to want what you want. To feel your desires pulsing in rhythm with my heartbeat. Drenching my skin, drumming in my mind, thoughts, emotions. In the core of my being, may your Spirit be present. Alive. Transforming my heart to breathe along with yours.

"Break my heart for what breaks yours. . ."