Struggling for Inspiration, Swirling in the Greys

I have had moments in my life where I have felt more inspired than I do right now.

Wow, that is a profound statement. Something else I have learned about myself is that I tend to try to soften the blow of written words with too many qualifiers.

I guess a more honest statement would be, "Where is my inspiration? I seem to have spent all that I had."

The more I learn, the gray things seem. I grew up as a profoundly black and white child. Right and wrong were polar opposites.

I still believe there are universal truths, but there are so many things that I used to believe that seem much more muddy.

I am effectively at a point where my evaluation of the gray areas is all about the impact they have. If an organization, program, policy, or idea sells like a symphony in theory, but sounds like a rush hour traffic jam in practice, I struggle with calling it good, just because its values seem noble. At the end of the day, I want to see something work, some immutable positive impact. I want to see lives changed for the better... neighborhoods and cities reflecting caring concern and wisdom in management... churches reflecting practical and meaningful impact in their communities...

I am tired of one testimony wins, those beautiful stories in brochures that hide ninety-nine failures.

It's not all about the numbers, and it is. Where is the impact?

So perhaps this is why I struggle for inspiration. Day to day I watch many more failures repeat themselves in slightly different shades and flavors, while the successes seem much more intangible and sometimes concocted for political favor or another wave of fundraising.

It seems like there are many barriers to growth, but an abundance of fuel for decay.

It's like the hearts of so many have turned shallow or hard, and the abuses and suffering that have been proliferated in modern America are hidden under a current of busyness, entertainment, and materialism. I would love to see some kind of cultural reawakening, a new sensitivity to one another break out. Tolerance seems like such a bland substitute for friendship.

The more I know, the harder it seems to concoct a meaningful solution on my own. There is power in unity, in friendships... but so many seem to want to stop at relationships that exist to cover the boredom, that hide the loneliness.

On many more levels undisclosed, I struggle with inspiration, primarily because I am not sure that I have faith in humanity to change. It's easier to continue working, growing old, and investing in 401k's. It's easier to do what we know to do, what we have been raised to do.

I wish compassion and true brotherly love would serve as a catalyst for cultural change. I long for an awakening in the church and in neighborhoods alike. What if we mobilized our resources and lives in the name of healing our social and spiritual wounds? What would that look like? Could a movement seen in life and times of Jesus, Gandhi, and Martin Luther King Jr happen again in our time, or have we become too numb, too politically correct to care for our brothers and sisters? Alone, I feel so powerless to hope for a miracle.

Things are terribly grey.