My name is Cale Josten.
I live in Mount Vernon, WA at the moment.
I like, LOVE Soccer Boy #13.
I open the Foam Cabinet every once in a while.
I spin in circles for fun.
I don't normally kill people.
And... I'm an eccentric artist.
These are all traits that I can tell you, and you'll probably believe they're true. Why would you believe something I said, though? Do you honestly trust me enough to say that you KNOW I'm not lying? I mean, I could say right now, "I am not lying to you." But I could be lying. And you wouldn't know for sure. Ever!
So trust me when I say these things to you.
When I walk around school wearing boots, I feel like I own the world. I look at people and smile, because I see their beauty! I see their passions. One kid, wearing baggy jeans and an old t-shirt is obviously NOT trying to impress anyone. He is either content with his comfort, or doesn't have the funds, time, or patience to dress otherwse. His passion is for something in which he doesn't require anyone else's help. If his eyes are relaxed, he is bored, tired, relaxed, purposed, or all four.
I look at the way a good friend of mine walks. As confident as I am, his boldness outshines mine by a million miles. His stance tells me that he is in complete control of his life, and not much can phase him. He also walks thoughtfully. His balance keep him from being clumsy (unless he's in the presence of a female who happens to intimidate him with her feminine charm). His face is full of answers, yet oveflowing with curious questions. When he is tired, his determination still remains.
I look at a complete stranger. She walks quickly, with her head down. She seems to be avoiding someone, something, anything. Everything. She isn't comfortable where she is. I can smile at her, but in her withdrawn state, she never sees it. She occasionally runs into another similar person, or a group of rowdy friends. In conversation, her eyes never leave her hands; or her feet; or her clothes. The poor child is insecure, and it's my job to help.
The Foam Cabinet had a variety of people in it, blundering about the same world I wander in. It's never enough just to look at these people and ponder their lives. What will it take for me to go up to them and be a friend? It takes more than boldness. It takes more than courage. It takes more than willingness. It takes more than interest. It takes love. The love of God, the love of Jesus.
Stayin' Alive just ain't enough anymore.
