There is nothing more frightening for me than a serious relationship.

Just the idea of it makes me shudder.

This is strange because although I am deathly scared of long-term relationships, I feel that I have been prepared to succeed in one.

I come from a household with two parents who even as they approach their sixties seem to legitimately care for and love each other. My Dad has always treated my Mom really well, and my mother has always been a great wife. I’ve seen my parents fight, disagree, and I know they have gone through tough times. But I have always seen them get through it, and continue to love each other, for richer and poorer, in sickness and in health.

So, my formative experiences with marriage and true love are all very positive.

I also have been blessed to have friends who love me unconditionally – who have stood by me as I’ve made mistakes, when I have been grumpy, melodramatic, silly, detached, and everything else. I try to be a good friend but I know I sometimes am not. These people love me anyways.

So, I have a good example and an excellent support structure.

Also, it is safe to say that I have not been unlucky in love – quite the opposite; I have been able to date some truly amazing women – from princesses to diplomats to superstar artists.

I have been a democratic dater – dating people from different ethnicities, nationalities, upbringings, and religious backgrounds than myself.

So, I have an idea about who I am in a relationship. What my strengths and weaknesses are, what I am looking for, what I need from a partner, and what I am willing to give.

Yet, I am still scared to death, because deep down I am not sure if I can be a suitable long-term partner.

The biggest reason for this is that I am bi-polar.

Unlike being handicapped, being bipolar can be unpredictable, subversive, and aims at the heart.

The lack of stability, the sometimes complete emotional disconnect, the fights with both depression and mania, can render a huge toil on the other person in the relationship.

And it is the little things – I might stay up half the night because a person I loved didn’t text message me back, and now I am questioning the entire relationship, and especially myself, over a reality as simple as “she fell asleep because it is 1:30 A.M. “

Or my significant other needs me emotionally – but I am manic and simply want to go out, or drink, or have sex and I am emotionally unavailable. Or more commonly I am depressed and want to lay in bed, feel sorry for myself, feel worthless – and once again I am emotionally unavailable.

And unfortunately when you are a big part of woman’s life – and suddenly you check out on her – she becomes really upset and cries. She cries because she loves you and you are hurting her.

The tricky thing is that in between stuff like this I know I am an absolutely amazing and loving person. I know why people are attracted to me. Most of the time I rock.

Yet, serious relationships aren’t “most of the time” affairs. When dating someone casually you can generally shield them from the worst parts of yourself. You can’t do this when you are dating seriously or married – it is all of the time, and sooner or later – you are going to be “bipolar”.

And the tragedy is that it won’t be a “one-time affair”. This is fundamentally part of who you are.

A good friend who is bipolar recently told me “I'm just really sad because I've been a pancake my whole life and a pancake is a pancake! Even when it doesn't want to be :/”

Usually when I try to change my personality it has to do with a relationship – I am trying to be a better person for somebody else. And honestly it works to a certain degree.

Yet at the end of the day I am still a pancake. Will always be pancake. Especially when I don’t want to be.

I often wonder whether or not it is even fair for me to get into a serious relationship. If I want to put someone who I love through the challenges of dealing with me?

I know I push people away.

Whether consciously or subconsciously my default is not to let anyone get too close.

To be known but unknowable.

And I have some vague idea that this too isn’t healthy.

But I wonder if loneliness is the price I must pay to not have to deal with hurting the person I love most in the world?

Because honestly for me there isn’t a worse feeling than letting down or hurting those I love. The pain it causes me is traumatic. So my heart tries to run from this pain, even though it’s of my own creation.

Yet I still can’t completely believe in running from Love, because all of my life I have seen, been taught, and believe that Love is good.

That Love is power. That Love can conquer all.

If I had to explain my religious beliefs, in one word, it would be Love.

So the very thing that I am most afraid of is the very thing I want most in the entire world.

And this tension, I believe, is fundamentally human.

Fear and desire often go hand in hand.

I do believe that there is someone who is meant to be my life-partner, my wife, my truest of loves.

I do believe somehow we will figure out an answer to this tension – that she will add an abundance to my life and that I will complete hers.

I do believe that God is good and that God is Love, and even something as vexing to my human mind as how to have a successful long-term relationship when you are bipolar can be figured out.

Most importantly, I have to believe this.

Because even pancakes deserve a happily ever after.

So everyone got all excited when word came out that Spike Jonze was getting a hold of Maurice Sendak's timeless kid's book "Where the Wild Things Are." I must admit that I was among that group of people. My parents read the book to me when I was a kid, and I remember being absolutely stoked to find out they'd be making it into a movie.

There are many things about the film that Jonze got right. He found a cute enough kid, the CGI beasties are surprisingly belivable as living creatures, the music is fabulous in that indie sort of way, and even the movie's earthy color palette does an excellent job of informing its heavy, brooding tone.

Its a typical feeling: you watch a great movie, and can't wait to pop it in again. The second viewing opens new doors: since you know where the story leads, you can focus your attention on the journey. You pick up the little character quirks you hadn't seen before, notice easter eggs the director inserted as shout-outs to earlier films or beloved influences, and get to analyze how the actors conveyed the emotion that hit you with that hard twinge of empathy.

It is always dangerous to talk about love while staring into a girl's eyes.

The big brown vessels that are mirrors, that are tunnels, that are gavels rendering judgment.

You were a feminist who hated questions.

A traveler who loved the bed.

Maybe you are a fierce lover.

Maybe you bite and cry.

I hope you unravel like a ball of yarn.

I hope you slink that sexily.

I bet you have been broken. Hurt.

You want someone to love. I just want something real.

I want to fall in love with an angel and teach her about God.

I want to have my heart cry.

I want that joy and that uncertainty.

I want something even jazz can't bury.

I need more than cool Dallas nights.

I need more than her beauty. Her soft brown features.

I need more than what she can give me.

I need pain. I need that brokenness. That fragility.

That triumphant strength, that ecclesiastic exhale.

I need that faith, that judgment, that fire,

that loneliness, that mystery -

I need so much more than just a good fuck.

This girl once told me that sharks are like God.

She fears sharks but also reveres sharks - and hopes to feel that way about God.

She said that she wanted to be a shark - dangerous, powerful, and beautiful.

She said she wasn't sure about love. That she hates dating. That it is always a roller coaster, and there is never a connection.

She smoked a cigarette and had beautiful eyes.

She said that all she wants to do is get married. That she immediately judges a guy on whether there could be a long term connection.

She said that when she has a connection with a guy she will do anything for him.

But there are no guys like that in this country.

She said she had her flaws.

And I looked at her, stunned by her fragility - how lost she was, how vulnerable, how honest, and we were touching now. In that moment, she saw herself through my eyes and realized that she was no longer just shooting the bull. That somehow she had become deeply honest and vulnerable - and that she had gone too far, said too much.

She got up, went to the restroom, and got another beer.

She lit another cigarette and sat down next to me.

"Any revelations?" I asked.

"No" she said, "tonight I just want to keep things simple."

Last night I was drinking wine and playing Pictionary with some friends after a gallery opening and posed this question:

What issues do you care about?

That evening everyone had an answer, and I would suggest that if you are able to take a hard look at our society and not find anything that deeply wrenches your soul in the deep of night - then there is something seriously wrong with you.

However, it is never enough to just recognize the problem.

Right now we are living in a society where it is prime time for participation.

Or to put it another way, "the harvest is plentiful but the laborers are few".

This quote taken from the 9th chapter of Matthew shows the people of God in a serious plight. They were lost, handicapped, confused and run down to the point that Jesus felt compassion towards them. They were sheep in need of a shepherd - they were a people who were hurting, who were struggling, who had unmet needs.

And as we look out into our communities today we see many unmet needs, many people who are not reaching their potential - people who are suffering - physically, mentally, and spiritually.

And yet, from a Christian perspective, these times of crisis are also times of opportunity. The "harvest", the chance to help people, the ability to live a meaningful life, a life that transcends merely taking care of yourself, is indeed plentiful.

The tragedy is that even thousands of years later - the laborers are still few.

For those who do labor - I offer these two thoughts.

First, do not neglect the power of prayer. It works and it is free.
Pray with anticipation. Pray to the Lord to bring in the harvest. Pray for other people. Put people on your prayer list.

I challenge all Christians who read this to make a prayer list of people, whether strangers, family, or friends and simply pray for whoever is on your list and see for yourself the grandeur of God.

There is nothing more powerful than prayer. It puts you in the presence of and in conversation with an all powerful and all loving Heavenly Father for whom all things are possible.

Secondly, go with authority.

The enemy is nothing to play with. There is a great passage in Acts where someone is trying to cast out a demon in the name of Jesus and his servant Paul.

The demon replies, "I know Jesus and I know Paul but who are you?"

Whatever need you are trying to meet, whatever harvest you are trying to gather, whomever you are trying to help - it is impossible for you to be successful without building sincere, authentic, and personal relationships.

Whether you need to build your relationship with God or build your relationship with the community you are trying to help - relationships are the foundation of authority.

Ultimately, it is our relationships with other people that enable us to do the most good. It fuels our ability to help, to harvest, and to love.

We live in a season where the harvest is plentiful.

We live in a time that needs us to go from spectators to active participants.

Now is the prime time for participation. Now is the time to dedicate our entire lives to improving the communities, the cities, and the world in which we live.

I pray that you can find a cause that keeps you up at night.

I pray that you can love your community with all your heart.

I pray that you can labor until you are able to transcend yourself and live a life of servitude and love.

Amen.