Ok, so I was reading a part of Jim Elliot's biography, and something happened. It happens every so often, but this time is was more acute than normal. I got really passionate. I mean, I was sitting in Panera, and all I wanted to do was to stand up, break my table in half and scream at the top of my lungs. I did exercise some self-restraint, and resorted to the weirdest scribbled-down passions in the history of journaling, but I figured that that type of self-restraint must be what enables Todd to not break stuff all day every day.
I think my passion was due to my being able to identify with Jim Elliot on parts of his life, and then a raging cry to be more godly. Because I'm not very godly at times.
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