beacons of the helpless

as i sit here typing for the second time today, i am listening to the mellowdramatic and circular sound of a helicopter. it's not a movie, nor is it a compilation of special effects. it's an actual helicopter; its been flying overhead for about an hour now.

the reason the helicopter is circling overhead, over and over, is because of the giant bonfire blazing away at the side of the hill that my neighborhood is located on. don't worry, its not a threat to any of the houses, or even to the wooded area it is burning near; its not a fire for destroying, its more a beacon for signaling.i know what you're thinking. 'josh, why is that you know so much about this fire? did you have something to do with it?' i assure you i did not...not intentionally anyway.
the fire was lit (and i admit, this is all circumstantial) by a young man about my age, who is desparately trying to find himself, or find something that he can associate himself with. currently he's associating with the rebel pyromaniac crowd, hense the buge (big+huge) fire.

his name is doug, and i have known him since the fourth grade.

doug, to begin with, needed a friend, and as far back as i can remember this was my first experience intentionaly trying to minister. i became doug's friend because he was new to my school, and because it was my job as a christian to meet new people and make sure they felt loved for the duration of recess, and that they new a whistle from the lady with the umbrella meant sit on the wall, and not to play on the tires by the road. at that time, i was pretty sure that that was how being a christian worked. but this isn't about me or christianity. this is about lost souls seeking peace and hope and acceptance...ok, so it is about christianity.
anyway, that's a brief history of my relationship with doug. i had good motives, but nothing to back my motives with other than some hollow, legalistic, childhood view of what 'good christians were supposed to do.'
doug went on to excell in such areas of life as juvenile hall, prison, and most recently, the forest just beyond my house. and even more recently, doug has put into physical form what christians call 'a cry for help.' a giant bonfire which can be seen from the freeway. (i know this because i saw it from the freeway)

the ironic thing about this cry is that we all have it, and we are all trying to pretend like we really don't.now you're thinking 'whoa, josh old buddy, thats quite the generalization there...take it easy with the "we all have's" after all, you don't know that.'and maybe doug is trying to roast the biggest hotdog this side of chicago.

its true. we are all screaming for significance, meaning, and hope. after all, why do you spend so much time in front of the mirror in the morning?
whats even more ironic about this cry, is as a culture, we try and pretend its not there, we try and stifle it.we try and smother out the deep need we have for something that matters. and we're all trying to put out the giant bonfires that mark us as vulnerable and virtually worthless.

we all are hiding in the woods right now trying to avoid being associated with our beacons of helplessness, avoiding those who would point out our offense.
but Christ comes and sits with us by our fires and says 'i see your need, and it has been fulfilled. I am personally watching you.'

i pray that i might get to share those words with doug someday.