and I’m just not safe anymore
I can’t go anywhere
but there’s empty eyes and words and smiles
and lives that never touch
but long to be touched
and I walked into a picture show
I wanted to laugh
I just wanted to be uninvolved for a change
and then there you were
how could you touch my soul from the screen?
why was the smile on your face meant for me?
how could your shining eyes have seen the
tears in mine?
I guess apathy is a luxury I can’t afford
and if money buys it
I pray I never have enough
and I don’t know your name
but at least I know your needs
if you were here, I wonder how I’d tell you
how your life is a part of my life
would you understand that
I love you?
I know that Jesus wants to reach you
He wants so much to set you free
you only have to let Him teach you
how to live
I know if I don’t sing this song
I’ll start to cry
and the way I feel,
I just might cry anyway
If it is still shrouded in mystery, let it be so. Heart and mystery—ah, some things must remain unspoken.
It doesn’t seem all that mysterious to me now, really. Remember Willie (see Bluer notes)? Well, same character. Funny how just the sight of one face can make your whole Program for Uninvolvement fall apart. And make songs and dreams and prayers start tumbling out of you. But in one sense, of course, the face was already there, inside of me. I just recognized it up on the screen. And I’ve come to know that face, the one within me, a lot better through the years since that fateful night. Seems like the better we get to know the faces inside us, the less we’re driven by the faces on TV and movie screens and in crowds and audiences and everywhere.
We’ll never get to know all the faces, though—not in this life—so rest assured: there will always be plenty of mystery.