I once knew a girl who thought salvation meant wearing a cross necklace around her neck and saying her prayers every night. She was living in a lifestyle the world deemed appropriate. As long as she said her prayers, though, she was okay. She had heard of Jesus Christ, but didn’t really understand who He was. She was baptized at 11, because that’s what the other kids were doing.
She was a good person. She did good deeds for people. Surely that was enough. There were times she would sit around with her friends after an eventful night at the local bar and have drunken debates about the love of God. “Child molesters will never be in Heaven, but I will. God knows I love Him.”
There was always a question in the back of her mind that someone had asked her a few years earlier. “If you died tonight do you think you would go to Heaven?” Of course I’ll go to Heaven. I’m a good person. I pray every night. Look at my cross necklace. Her reality was not reality at all.
That girl was me. I was another lost soul walking around in a big, big, broken world. Then I met Jesus in my office floor on an emotional day in July of 2006. I haven’t been the same since. 
I was reading the book of Daniel last night. Daniel had a vision. A river of fire was flowing, coming out from before him. Thousands upon thousands attended him; ten thousand times ten thousand stood before him. The court was seated, and the books were opened. Daniel 7:10
As I read that I was reminded that our works, no matter how good, will not be able to save us. When that book opens, will your name be in it? Or will you be among those who walked around like I did, thinking I was a good person, and that was enough?
I keep thinking about Francis Chan desperately wanting to bring his grandmother to Christ on her deathbed. So desperate in fact, that he kept yelling in her ear to wake up so he could tell her about Jesus. At that moment reality set in where her destination was going to be. Hell – for eternity!  At that moment he stopped caring what other people were going to think about him. This moment was about Christ, not about Francis. Because of his willingness to step out and be radical, his brother even came to Christ and is now a preacher.
What am I doing to be radical? I admit that far too many times in my life I care about what other people think. There are so many around me that aren’t walking with Christ. They are simply relying on their works to get them to Heaven. Life is too much fun right now to give it their all. Yet, I am too worried that if I get too radical with them, they will stop talking to me altogether. Isn’t it worth the risk?
There was once a girl who loved Jesus. She wanted others to know Him like she did. She saw their lives and shook her head in sadness as she simply whispered a prayer for God to change their hearts, then went on her way.
There was once a girl who loved Jesus. She wanted others to know Him like she did. She saw their lives and begged God to use her in changing their lives. She became radical for Jesus, not for people. She kept trudging through the laughs, the stares, and the judgment as she begged those she loved to give up their ways and follow His. She didn’t just pray. She went into action.
I want to be the latter.
What do you want to be?