Today I learned that Wilson Steen died. Wilson was a man at my college church who did nothing but make life happy for everyone around him. He had mental and physical difficulties that kept taking blows at him, but his only thoughts were his passionate love for God and his concern for others. Wilson could barely write but he sent a birthday card to every person in the church every year. I still have one of mine. And a card that he sent when my grandfather died.

It seems that the core of the Christian life is about living for others. I fail at this miserably. What's more is that I keep noticing that some of the people who have the best reasons to be completely concerned with themselves are sometimes the ones who do the best job of thinking of themselves the least. I know that a few of our shepherds had to talk with Wilson once because he was so cut to the heart all of the time by the messages and worship at church that he was always coming forward. He just wanted to love God. He often sat near the front, by himself, but he didn't care. He still loved everyone.

We keep waiting for Jesus to come back with huge dramatic earthquakes, trumpets, raptures and other apacalyptic yadda yadda. Sometimes I wonder if he already quietly walks among us, sending us birthday cards.