One Vanilla Java Porter Later

I just got home from "time with Jean." I kinda feel all gushy on the inside. Like when I get to the end of an episode of Little House on the Prarie. She tried to call, but that didn't work. She tried to work my door bell- out of order. She made her way to my neighbor's and got let in and up to my apt. door, and says.... I have to do something in town, but let's get a few afterwards.
I jump at these moments. There is no plan too big to give up, no reason to not go. "Time with Jean" is precious. We head out to a bar that is offering jobs. I ask for the application, she hands me the pen. I show her the beer on tap across the way, she get's up for a closer look.
We are talking before we get out of the car, all the way into the place, on our way to the table, past Dave, who's kinda nice looking, talk. Italy, finances, Italy, (tell the waitress we don't know what we want like three times.) Eat casually, drink even more casually, Italy, making French Onion Soup, making Tiramisu, Friends, Road Trips, Italy, Loosing Weight, Sofa stories, just when we talked about the time (and I'm thinking she means to go), Jean puts her feet up on the empty chair from the table next to us... whew, Italy, exercise, Mom's birthday, Mammy paying for help around the house. And we pay and we talk all the way out (no City newspaper by the door). She was called Momma by the waitress and we laugh and talk about that. (About how whenever we go out, people think we're mother and daughter). And we share places in our lives where we ask God to be with us, and when we just need Him to be there, maybe with us not realizing or asking. We talk. And by the end, my heart is glowing, and I feel enriched, and privileged and glad Jean is my friend.

Clear

It's a really clear night out. You can see the stars. Yup, they're still there. Kinda constant. I mean, each one dies eventually but for me the common man, I find that the consistency of them being out there is good enough. I like that. Something is constant, something I can rely on. It's no Aurora borealis (but the picture is cool, isn't it?) One day all this beauty will be gone. But there will be a new earth. And man... I can't wait. (I mean, obviously I can...) but can you imagine... newer than this one, more crisp, more clear, brighter, lighter, cleaner. Let the light come.

Spot

I'm in the Spot coffee joint. The one in downtown Rochester. I love it for several reasons.
Reason #1. It's noisy enough that I can read or study, but not be distracted by the clamoring conversations.
Reason #2. It smells good. Sometimes like coffee, sometimes like a piece of toast (or better yet, a croissant) just came out of the toaster.
And Reason #3. I meet friends here. I've never just come on my own. It has quite a nestalgic feeling of being a friendly place.
I met Christina here (which lead to another meeting with her in Buff. Buff. Buffalo. ((or was that before....???)
And I've met Jen here on several occasions (I'm meeting her here tonight... quite possibly with Christina?)
There are other times. Times with Brandy.
And it makes me happy to be back. A reason to give a little post and say.... " Thank you The Spot, I appreciate your being here."

Pickles

I'm not very fond of pickles. They have their purpose, and they smell great when I walk by the grill room at work. There someone is... getting a dill, fresh out of the pickle bucket, it's placed next to a bag of potato chips and ... well you get the point.
I was approaching the 'coffee' table at the end of a meeting at church and there was an offer of cucumbers, and penny-pan squash (who knew it would taste GREAT with blueberries?), and so I took both. The cucumbers are for pickling. Why... you ask... would I take pickling cucumbers if I don't necessarily like pickles? Well, I'm not sure myself, but when the offer was thrown out there, I thought to myself... I can pickle stuff. I may not eat it, but sometimes when people come over... for instance just now as I'm writing, my Dad who will be here in a week's time.... they may like to try a pickle.
I notice I'm in a bit of a more generous spirit lately. I'm thinking of what I can do for others. It may have to do with this money course I'm taking. Realizing that I want to still care and hang out and do 'stuff' with others, but do it without spending money... that's sometimes tricky. Good thing most of my friends are taking this course with me and we all realize the state we're all in. I'm becomming over zealous to have things clean and tidy, and even if it's not my mess. I'm looking at the mess going... that's going to have mold on it in two more days.... just clean it up now. Seeing the end result. Wanting a better end result and actually doing something about it...that's the hard part.

#2

(Spiritual) Psychopath

I was just sitting here thinking what that would mean, exactly? Wikipedia is great, you know... "Lack of a conscience in conjunction with a weak ability to defer gratification and/or control aggressive desires, often leads to antisocial behaviors." So, in reality it's not remotely intertwined with spirituality, it's just normal everyday life stuff that someone deals with. BUT if we were to refer it to spirituality, I think it pretty much means the same thing.

I remember growing up in the church. My parents and family had instilled a very strong sense of right and wrong into me while growing up. I'm thankful. I still have little blue K-mart lights flashing in my head when someone is hurt, or something bad is said- or when I hurt someone, or say something I shouldn't. It's just my choice as to how I'm going to deal with the light.

Deferring gratification... when I'm the one who is looking good? when I'm the one who get's to laugh at the joke aimed at somone elses expense. Controlling aggressive desires... what does that mean? You actually mean I'm supposed to help someone else get a leg up in the company? I'm not supposed to lash out when it's not my fault? What about me???!!!!

I have a friend who once said she'd rather be a doormat if it meant that the person was walking on her to cross the threshhold to the Kingdom. (I still think she's a little crazy... but considering... I see her as more and more reasonable.) Look at Joseph's life in Genesis-Beaten, sold, imprisoned...looserville! Yeah, and then he was Pharoh-ing!

I guess I still want my conscience. I still want the little light, the pang in my heart, the 'woah' in my giddy-up. But sometimes more, I need to use the 'ability' inside of me to act on the voice that has been with me so long. Who else can I trust?

#1

I was rummaging (don't you just love that word) through some old art that I've made, and mixed in was this poem. Thought it was a good start to a new blog. I didn't write it, but I did memorize it at some point during my high school carreer. (If memorizing includes forgetting.)

Martha Snell Nicholson



My Advocate



I sinned. And straightway, post-haste Satan flew

Before the presence of the Most High God,

And made a railing accusation there.

He said, " This soul, this thing of clay and sod

Has sinned. 'Tis true that he has named Thy name,

But I demand his death, for Thou has said,

'The sould that sinneth, it shall die!' Shall not

Thy sentence be fulfilled? Is Justice dead?

Send now this wretched sinner to his doom.

What other thing can righteous ruler do?"

And thus he did accuse me day and night,

And every word he spoke, O God, was true!



Then quickly One rose up from God's right hand,

Before Whose glory angels veiled their eyes.

He spoke, "Each jot and tittle of the law

Must be fulfilled: the guilty sinner dies!

But wait. Suppose his guilt were all transferred

To ME and that I paid his panalty!

Behold My hand, My side, My feet! One day

I was made sin for him, and died that he

Might be presented faultless, at Thy throne!"

And Satan fled away. Full well he knew

That he could not prevail against such love,

For every word my dear Lord spoke was true!



I've found that as I talk my way around the gospel, it's skin, the fingernails, the hair color- there is still only one foundation, one root- the skeletal truth, the bone and marrow. God set this place up and He made the laws for us, he made the way for us to live, and yes, there is only one way for us to live successfully. And that way is to throw ourselves onto His grace for this perfect law we can never align ourselves to. It was never given to us to be able to do it on our own. It was always His hope to be involved with us. There is always a sacrafice, and it was never us. It was first a garden, then a lamb and then a man- who happened also to be God, himself. He took his own rib, his own flesh and sent it down once again. Looking for salvation. And he found it.

In this day, an advocate is a person who vies for your character. One who stands behind the truth of what is known about who you are, and says, "I'll stand behind you, next to you, and even with you through this." I won't run away. I want to be with you.

I hope we keep Jesus with us. This thought of his advocacy. This empowerment of our existance- everyday, living life with He who is our best friend.