An Unexpectedly Wonderful Day

Saturday.

Noon. Found my way out of the house; packed my writing notebook, Message version Bible, Journal, and book my Sphere is reading this summer...

1:30PMish. After driving through some sketchy parts of the city, praying for God to bring His Kingdom and restore the broken (what sweet time!), I landed at Infusion Tea in College Park for a bit.

Ran into Brenda from my department, met her friend, Jan and then found a window seat at a high top table to spend some quiet time.

I wrote about some broken places in my life and reflected on how I have experienced growth, even when it doesn't appear that way. A dear friend, Megan and I caught up via phone and prayed before hanging up. She encouraged me immensely. Read two chapters in my Sphere book, The Furious Longing of God, by Brennan Manning. It make me think and smile.

3:45 PM. Off to another adventure. A new friend highly recommended a photography exhibit downtown... SNAP, so I decided to go.

4:05 PM. Parked and meandered toward the gallery I visited last weekend to better understand the lay of the land. Happened upon a wine/food festival there. Popped into the gallery, asked some questions, discovered the main event didn't occur until 7 PM (Hummm... 3 hours to kill?) and took some time to look at the pieces they had in their possession.

Was challenged by the story one photographer told about a mobile home park here in Florida. The residents chose to live there and LOVED it. Their perspective on beauty had so much more to do with people than with things. I admired them and soaked in the images.

And, I looked to my left, and there was Jenn from Status. She and a friend popped into the gallery while waiting to meet others who were attending the festival outside.

We chatted briefly and then they left; I continued my tour. I found myself in the front of the gallery talking with Donna, a painter who volunteered there. We talked about the importance of our humanity and what we can learn from people like those in the mobile home park.

She kindly offered me a free pass to the wine/food festival outside! And, we said our goodbyes and I went on my way.

5:30 PM. I took in the crowds of people and wandered through the booths. Sipped some vino, ate tiny food and felt hot under the late afternoon sun. In one line, I met Tommy who gave me a hard time about being at the festival on my own. A psychotherapist in town who oversees the hospital wards, he shared briefly of the depth of pain that kids that he and his staff encounter experience in life. It reminded me to be grateful.

He introduced me to his friends, Ian and Tim. We chatted for a few minutes and they asked what I was up to -- I told them I was passing the time until the exhibit opened at 7 PM and how I had happened upon the festival. They couldn't believe I got in for free. I told them I must have a way with people. ;)

We said our goodbyes with the hope that perhaps we'd reconnect later --potentially at the exhibit--he sweetly kissed my cheek and I wished them a great afternoon.

5:45 PM. A bit more navigation required, I finally found a local coffee shop where some local musicians were setting up to play. I sat at a bar of sorts with my iced peppermint mocha (delightful!!), pulled out my journal and thought I'd spend some time processing on paper the thoughts swirling in my mind from the last 36 hours.

I wrote for quite a while and decided to go back and remember... The entries varied and I saw how I longed to connect with God and be changed by Him. The hardest to read? October 20, 2009. That was the day I felt "done" with Him and laid it all out there. I was in so much pain... The redeeming thing about October 20, 2009, however, was that my relationship with God was forever altered -- in a good way. Had this day never occurred, I would not be who I am and where I am now.

7:05 PM. A guy named Shaun sat down by me at the counter. He asked what I was doing and I told him I was remembering. He asked if I was a writer. I actually said "Yes." (Who knew it was in me to begin to admit it to perfect strangers!) He asked some personal questions about the writing and I was able to answer. I wasn't sure what he was going after, so I cautiously went along. I told him about God and how that's my foundation. He and his sister, Megan (a college student in S. FL who was visiting her big brother for the weekend) were participating in the festival and he asked what I was up to. I told him I was heading to a photography exhibit and he said, "Why don't we all go together?"

And so we did. Trust me, I was being safe, but I can imagine this might sound unsafe.

So we went. Taking in the different perspectives, we discussed what they meant and honestly, after a while, the vibe I was getting from him made me determine that I needed to head out sooner than later.

I enjoyed interacting with Seth who showed us a new technology that projects images, film and the like from a device the size of an iPhone... Pretty cool stuff. And, just a few other people that I didn't officially meet, but interacted with throughout the exhibit space.

I was able to move along on my own after expressing that I needed to get going to meet up with some friends back home. And, in the process, found my way up the stairs to the last part of the exhibit. Probably one of my favorite rooms.

9:20 PM. At the end of the day and on my drive home, I understood what a unique and special day the Lord had given me. I met so many people throughout its course - some known, some unknown - and was able to share about the Kingdom in small ways. What an encouraging time and what a beautiful way to spend a day.

The Last Will Be First

I came across an online photo today of a woman lying in a bed, her small body had nothing to it. Standing over this frail one, was another woman, very healthy in appearance, reaching out her hand to touch her. As I sat with the image for a minute, the thought that permeated my mind was this: that woman should go before me in the Kingdom.

Jesus' words hit me like a ton of bricks, "But many who are first will be last, and many who are last will be first." ( Speaking about the Kingdom in Matthew 19:30.) How often do I desire to be 'first' in life? As an American, it is often my expectation, not simply a privilege or blessing. When I approach life and people this way, I am wrong. And, it takes a moment of introspection to see it most clearly.

Compared with the myriad of sufferers in the world (...not seeking to invalidate my own suffering, yet desiring God to enlarge my perspective), my suffering is minimal. There is so much pain in the world. The reality that some believers (notwithstanding, the unbelievers around the globe) don't have clean water, proper nourishment, shelter, medicine, religious freedoms and more, humbles me in a way I cannot properly express.

Today, I feel grateful that God will honor others ahead of me. It is appropriate and loving.

Perceiving the Potluck: An Invitation

Tonight at Status we had an ol' fashioned Potluck. After finishing up my paintings earlier in the afternoon, I spent the next few hours wrestling over the decision to go or not. Here's the thing: I've been out of town (and honestly, out of sorts this year on the Stint) and made a commitment to myself following my last trip to be present at Status (the community of believers I'm engaging with here in Orlando). However, the friend I typically attend with was not able to go tonight.

So all afternoon I wrestled. I knew the Lord wanted me to go and I found myself wondering if it would be okay to outright disobey and head out with some friends who had other ideas for the evening. In the midst of this, I texted two others... Not going. Even though I enjoy people, it felt pretty intimidating to go by myself since we'd be having this Potluck and certainly sitting around tables with strangers or something of the sort. Every insecure place inside me rose to the occasion and I reasoned, "Well, the Lord loves me and will forgive me if I don't listen..." Right?

It's true, He would do that, but I would MISS out on something He had for me.

Long story, still long? I went. By God's mercy (truly, that's absolutely it!), another friend agreed to go with me to be my wing-woman. I told the Lord that He didn't have to provide in that way, but I was so grateful that He did. He's so stinkin' kind to me.

On my way there, I dropped into a store to grab something I might contribute. I found some crackers, meat and cheese, hopped in the car making it there early. (Can't remember the last time that happened now that I think of it.) And, yep, I was so glad that I listened to the Lord. Everything from the table-time to the message was so poignant and timely. Cole is continuing a series called Awaken the Dawn and continued sharing about spiritual maturity tonight utilizing the metaphor: Buffet v. Potluck. It was so encouraging and challenging.

The bottom line of what he talked about was that we want to live a Potluck lifestyle when it comes to our spiritual growth and maturity...

1. The table is empty: we approach with something to offer (note to self: let the Lord shower grace upon you when you find yourself apologizing for what you have to offer... like you did tonight with what you brought for the Potluck. Sad, but true in my life - this spoke volumes!)
2. Many people can contribute to a potluck--actually its SO much better with many than with a few.
3. A potluck is full of flavor; people bring part of who they are to the equation, it's diverse and delicious.
4. Potlucks are risky (as a Germaphobe, I LOVED this point :) ); you don't know what you're going to get, so you step out on a limb--we're able to risk because we're surrounded by people who love us.
5. A call to generosity; if we didn't give of ourselves, the table would be empty.
6. We participate and therefore, we grow! We don't simply approach and consume, but we are empowered to contribute.

Another positive? Ask my family, they'll affirm this... I hate buffets!! ; )

On a more serious note, as we looked at many passages in Scripture throughout the evening, I was reminded how high a value God places on our growth and maturity. For me, the Lord continues to affirm His desire that I step from fear to faith in several big areas of my life, trusting Him because He loves me. The post from earlier today gives a glimpse of some of those fears. I hear the Lord inviting me to join Him in a sweeter place -- a place of freedom -- and I really want to follow Him as He leads me there.

In the Face of Fear

Artists I know understand something about the process. The initial inspiration leads them to action and by some means unknown to me, most would say that the product is not what they originally envisioned, but better. Though I try to internalize the greatness of how it seems to work, I struggle with the reality.

If you know me, you know that I thrive on the messy and love to solve problems with excellence. A perfectionist and yes, Type A (me in a box!), I have a tendency to procrastinate until I know I can do something well. As a result, the creative process can feel like torture to me. I love the idea of expressing myself, engaging with the Lord and experiencing His truth as I write, draw or paint; yet, all of these forms of artistry take a toll because I can't know how it will turn out in the end. And, if I'm honest, I don't know how open I am to feeling this 'seen'. I am afraid.

As I type, I'm also reminded of how this comparison relates to people--you cannot control them, you must listen and temper your expectations of what's coming next. Uncertainty is the only certainty you're guaranteed. Intimacy comes when you are vulnerable and let them close enough to see the cracks and they do the same. This, too, is scary.

Today I sat down and actually completed two smallish paintings. Shockingly, I found myself reveling in the process throughout the whole of the morning! I smiled and teared up as I realized it mid-stroke. And, who knows if they're even any good--though, it really doesn't matter... I like them.

It feels brave.