Coffee Shop

All this week thoughts of blogging have been flitting through my brain. What to blog about? Why do I even still keep a blog? I think it's because I love to write and every so often a moment has a multi-dimensional, vibrant quality to it that causes me to want to capture it, look at it from different angles and make it completely my own. I haven't had too many of those moments lately. Unless you count the few seconds interval on my walk to the gym the other day where I passed a woman's black pleather belt which looked as though it had been used as a weapon the night before and then passed by a men's once-white crew sock limpily hanging off the curb, looking very much like the victim of belt war tactics. I chuckled and then sighed to myself seeing these two elements as symbolic representations of some broken male-female relating. I quickly concluded that it wouldn't make a very interesting blog article on its own, but I just had to stick it in one anyway.
This morning I awoke with a strong desire to sit in a random coffee shop and blog. I had a Groupon (coolest thing EVER-- every morning I get a coupon emailed to me for some kind of service offered at a crazy discount price) for an oil change on my car and needed to take it in. I just dropped off my car and started walking toward the King Soopers shopping center out this way, having been told by the car place guy that he thought there might be an Einstein Bagels in that general area. Halfway there, I glimpsed a sign 'COFFEE SHOP'. Random coffee shop. Way better.
So, I'm sitting here, drinking an iced coffee, listening to Roy Orbison on the radio and just writing because it feels good. I still love my new church-- starting our first single women's small group tomorrow night. I love being in on the ground floor of things. And, I just need to meet more regularly with people who are trying to know more and more what it means to love and be loved by Jesus in America. I am keen to know how these girls see their faith, how they choose to live it out in the world around them. I crave to hear their personal struggles, to listen as they share what Scriptures they might hold onto when they feel lost. My soul just needs to know: how real IS Jesus in the lives of people around me who claim to know Him?
I have realized that I am desperate to hear these faith confessions because I feel like my own walk of faith has taken on a completely new life, that sometimes feels like death. I was reading in Matthew the other morning, 'You are the salt of the earth; but if salt loses its flavor, how shall it be seasoned?' Ugh. I used to feel so dang salty. To be honest, I used to be a total spice cabinet. Today I am just begging God to not let me become completely flavorless. It freaks me out that I'm questioning things I once wholeheartedly knew-- and not out of cynicism, either. Not even out of doubt. More out of: how in the world did I go from being an MVP to one standing in line outside the park staring at the corn dog seller? How did I go from seeing the Kingdom of God all around me to being one who listens to others talking about it? I can imagine the Israelites during the 3 and a half year drought during Ahab's reign commenting to each other: 'Remember the rain? Remember how when it rained it would cool down for a while and then get insanely hot right after? Remember when we could go down to the brook and stick our feet in the water?' I feel like I'm having to constantly remind myself: remember when you used to pray for people and they would be set free? remember that time in Indonesia when... remember that time in Nigeria when...
But then Elijah prayed and the deluge came. "Elijah was a man with a nature like ours, and he prayed earnestly that it would not rain; and it did not rain for three years and six months. And he prayed again, and the heaven gave rain, and the earth produced its fruit.' James 5:17,18
Keep praying for rain, Amy. It will come again.