Passion.

I want to have passion.

I found my cassette of Kevin Prosch today. It's called Reckless Mercy. I absolutely, positively adore this album. It's raw. It's a picture of Kevin's heart, ripped wide open and laid out for everyone to see, no questions asked, no worries about what someone else might think or say, no thought to appearances... just prayer and song and worship and praise and... God.

Passion.

That's the word that best describes this album.

Passion.

There is passion in Kevin's voice, in his lyrics, in his music. Passion is stamped all over the cassette, and it winds its way into my soul every time I listen to it.

Sometimes I wonder if I know how to be passionate. What does passion look like in my life?

I guess it's excitement, for one thing. And joy, for another. Wonder, amazement, awe. Breathlessness. Vibration.

Passion doesn't seem to last long for me, though. It flares up and then is snuffed out again almost faster than it rose up in the first place. I don't know if it's me - as in, my nature - causing this or if it's a trick of Satan to get me to stay put. Could be both.

Passion, for me, isn't something I can just have. It's not going to stick around without work on my part. I'm going to have to work on being passionate the way I've had to work to learn how to stay on schedule and keep things clean and the like.

I know I can do it, the question is...

...how long will it take me to reach the point of no return, so that all of me is like Reckless Mercy all the time?

Cuz that's what I want most.