I needed to walk outside and pray when I got back into Los Angeles today because I was now 140 miles away from San Diego and the conference, and Satan wanted me to feel the distance. I prayed for character; I know much of that has been filleted and exposed and I want to fight it , and not merely empathize with conviction. I prayed for courage; I know it is easy to feel strong when faith is being built up, but not tested. Then I sat down and reread this:
As I kid, I knew exactly who I wanted to be for the rest of my life. It changed every year.
My friend Boris was new to the country; he was a bright-eyed Vietnamese kid with a scissor straight bowl cut, who would bang on the ground when he laughed. I used to go over to play at Boris's house and immediately call dibs on my favorite character of the moment. When I would ask him who he wanted to be, he would stare at me before saying, “Yeah, I be that too.” When I explained to him that that wasn’t how it worked, he never got mad—he would just scrunch his forehead together in thought and say, “ Ok, I be his friend then.” For years, it was the Black Power Ranger, and “his friend.” Then Tin Tin, adventuring throughout Paris and solving mysteries with “his friend.” Finally, Black Jackie Chan never left home without his main man, “friend.” I have not seen Boris since I was 9. I hope he still pounds on the ground when he laughs. And has that bowl cut.
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