So much of my life, I spend comfortable with being comfortable.  

I mean, I feel like I’m a pretty good person. I’ll call my dad today on Father’s Day, I do date nights with my husband, I tithe and I volunteer and I make meals for friends when they have babies. But when it comes down to it, I’m pretty comfortable with being comfortable.  

I look around at the way the world is, the brokenness and the sin and the shame, and I know God has and is doing something about it. But I’m pretty sure, so much of the time, that God is doing something about it through someone else.  

Sure, I know that Christians are supposed to feed the hungry and clothe the naked and set the captives free in our world (Mt. 5:25). And I try to do that from time to time, for sure…as I have time.

But I can come up quickly with a long list of reasons why God isn’t calling me to do anything all that crazy.