Well, it's actually past midnight, so it's my Birthday, and I'm 18. Whoop-de-doo. But that doesn't matter to me right now. I'll just get to the point. I read an e-mail from a high school friend the other day and it's ringing in my ears. She's working at an AIDS hospital in Africa, eating porridge mostly, risking death, living with a hopeless, tragic situation. I hate that she's there but I'm here. I hate being so far inside my comfort zone. I hate to think that there's so, so much, or even that there's anything at all that I could possibly be doing that would push me more; that would draw me closer to God or help me serve him more. God Almighty, push me. I'm not content to sit here. I cannot tolerate anything less than total submission to you. God bring me to that point. Push me, push me and give me the passion to accept it and to crave more. I ask for challenges and hardships - not because I know I can deal with them, but because I know I can't. Bring me to that place where I am totally overwhelmed, totally worthless in my own strength, and either save me or let me fail. Either is acceptable, and far preferable to this rancid half-heartedness. God, God, my creator and knower, I hunger for your total lordship. Hold nothing back that would quicken or magnify the destruction of my flesh or the unqualified slavery of myself to you. I pray with all the earnesty I possess, and I pray in Jesus' name, Amen.