Lone Ranger.

my dad is still the Lone Ranger's biggest fan. you know, the masked cowboy sheriff, sniffing out crime and hunting the perpetrators down. with the big, white horse named Silver and the Native American sidekick, Tonto. they rode the desert plains together, tracking outlaws. I mean, come on, he had a mask and was possibly the first cowboy to wear spandex instead of cowhide. everyone knows the Lone Ranger.

what made him the Lone Ranger was... well... he was a loner. he wasn't even an official sheriff. the guy was completely independent. even his partner, Tonto, would go and do his own thing. I mean, sure, usually they were together when news of the outlaw gangs came in, but Tonto had his own agendas too. they were free agents, fighting crime where they saw it. no affiliation. no checking in. no really getting to know people.

well. that works for him. but Christians... not so much.

trust me. I tried it alone. no, I didn't go into sex, drugs, and alcohol, but I confess I cussed a lot. under my breath. in my room to myself. which made me an angrier person in a shorter amount of time. swear words tend to have a knack for making a person angry or bitter.

everything also becomes more about myself. over stupid, silly things, too. why should I do the dishes, I'm never home making them dirty. why should I take care of the dog all day, I didn't buy her. why should I pay for the gas that someone else used in my car. why should I apologize, it's not like I'm as bad as him or her.

I also turn into Ebenezer Scrooge. clutching my belongings to myself. I bought them, what right have you  to touch them. I'll hunt down a single bottle of nail polish, muttering angry things all the while, whipping myself into a frenzy -- only to find it sitting in my own room. just in a different spot on the shelf.

the good thing is that God instantly convicts me. the bad thing is that this even happens.

and for the most part, it happens when I don't fellowship with the people of God. I have a dear Christian friend on campus. I love it when we can find time to just have breakfast, catch up, and have a truly refreshing talk about life as believers and the challenges we face.

I attend an excellent, firm church. sure, like every church, it has its quirks. but I love meeting with the people in that church. I thank God there is a small group/Bible study on the one evening I have free from work and class. and God uses that fellowship to help me. like a pit-stop halfway through the week-long marathon between Sundays. (which, I mentioned in the previous blog post, are crucial to keeping a believer accountable in their walk).

what I am not saying is that fellowship with believers is an instant magic, like osmosis or diffusion, where Christ-like behavior seeps from one person to the next. no. not at all. think of it more as a refresher. a nice, cold, icy glass of water after a three mile run in 80 degree heat. a beautiful, welcome break. 

as you can see, I'm not the number one Christian. like Paul, I am the least of all, a grateful slave to Christ. I'm not lecturing anyone about hanging out with the right people or spending more time with the good crowd. this blog post is a mere thought after noticing the God-moved change after He urged my heart to get more involved with His people. and what else are we supposed to do with God's life lessons but share them?