Loving Others as Myself- Not Really...

I had a huge realization about myself recently. People think I am this really loving person. I think I'm this loving person. Surely God uses me to show His love to others frequently in my life.

But then God got down to the deepest part of my heart and showed me that really when it comes to the point of a relationship where I'm really in pain, I cut and run. I divorce people. I move on. I only let people as close as the point where I can be in control of how much ability they have to cause me pain. When the relationship ceases to pass a cost-benefit analysis, I check out.

God has been showing me that if I want to love like Christ, then I don't get to choose who (whom?) I love. And I don't get to choose how much I love the people He chooses.

I think this stinks. I want to self-protect. I want to live in denial so I don't see how truly sinful people are. I don't want to make myself vulnerable to others who are not reciprocating the amount of effort I think is worthy of the relationship.

I have been reminded of this Scripture:

Matthew 5:46-47: "If you love those who love you, what reward will you get? Are not even the tax collectors doing that? And if you greet only your own people, what are you doing more than others? Do not even pagans do that?"

And so the conclusion that I arrived at (once again) in the car on the way home last night is this- it is completely impossible for me to love people. I don't even actually want to love them. Not when it goes beyond the momentary interaction with a homeless man on a park bench. Really, if I am honest, I like to love people up to the point where their sin has an effect on my free will. I will love you until my goals in life are side-tracked because of your shortcomings. That is where I decide you are no longer are of benefit to me.

That is just selfish. So I guess I'm not as Christlike as I thought! Thanks God for grace. I don't have to find the ability to love any of you from some well of goodness within myself. I just have to be a surrendered vessel, willing to channel Christ's love. And God said I know how to do that.

Enlisting Soldiers for the Army of the Disillusioned and Disenfranchised

I read something in the book "Tribes" by Seth Godin that really inspired me:

"Heretics are the new leaders. The ones who challenge the status quo, who get in front of their tribes, who create movements."

I started thinking about who the church has historically called heretical people- people, for the most part, ahead of their time. They were people that made the others uncomfortable. They shook things up. Rattled the sense of what was appropriate and acceptable.

This got me thinking about how hard it is for me to seem to fit in church. And then it occurred to me... "Why do I need to fit in?" What prize is it to get the approval of church people? What if I am not made to fit in? What if I am created to venture out in front, to start new things- new movements?

Isn't that what the early church did? Do you remember what they were called before they got labeled "Christian" at Antioch? They were followers of The Way.

Let's take a survey of what the followers of The Way were known for:

- "there arose a great disturbance about the Way" (Acts 19:23)

- "the whole city was in an uproar" (vs 29)

- the crowd was so incensed they seized Paul's traveling companions and when Paul wanted to appear before the screaming, violent, mob the officials of the province and the disciples wouldn't let him (vs 29-30)

- Paul was labeled as a "troublemaker" for "stirring up riots among the Jews all over the world" as the leader of the "Nazarine sect." (Acts 24:5-6)

Who were the people who were so riled up about The Way? The religious folks. Yes, the people who liked the financial security from making money off of Artemis in Ephesus and the religious Jews in leadership over at the temple. These people did not like those who rustled their way of doing things and threatened their positions of wealth and power. So what if the rabble-rousers had the truth!

I was also thinking about this in terms of other influential rejects in the Bible. David's Mighty Men are a prime example. These 37 men were brave beyond all others, killing hundreds, breaking through an entire military line just to get some water for their captain from his beloved homeland well. These were the men that joined David out in the wilderness when he was in disfavor with the establishment under Saul. These were the disenfranchised- those who were "distressed, in debt, or discontented." (1 Samuel 22:2)

These were the heroes. The ones with massive student loan and credit card debt, the ones who couldn't find jobs or hated their job. The ones who had serious issues. These guys accomplished great feats of bravery beyond anyone's ability to fathom from such losers and outcasts!

So I'm thinking about all those people out there who don't feel like they are acceptable to church. I've decided that I'm going to start recruiting a mighty army of the disillusioned and disenfranchised.

• Those of you who struggle with your sexuality and the church despises you for it. I want you!
• Those of you who wrestle with the validity of the Bible. Bring your questions and sign up!
• To the strong women with leadership gifts the church won't allow you to use. Lead here!
• To those debtors who haven't figured out a budget through Dave Ramsey's financial freedom class and those who can't find a satisfying job- or even a job at all. Work for me!
• To those battling depression and those who can admit your life is a mess. You're welcome!

If you've ever felt like you didn't fit in church, or you wrestled with your faith, or felt bad that everyone else had their life together except for you, you finally have a place! If you were too dicey for church or the establishment- there's good news! You don't need to get ordained to make a difference. You don't have to fix your life to start making a difference.

I'm starting a movement of people like us. I'm going to show the establishment that God can and WILL use you- just the way you are. You don't have to fix your doubt or change your personality. Come as you are. Jesus wants you to live in victory and start a revolution! Let's do what the church was originally intended to do- shake things up!

Becoming More Undignified

I say that I used to be fun. Perhaps people that know me still see that I am fun- sometimes- but really I feel I have gotten too serious. I blame law school for this. But also the hard trials of life that have grown me closer to God, yet have made life just seem... hard.

In college I used to be a large group leader of 80 new freshman for orientation called Welcome Week. In the sessions at the large arena where all the freshman would be gathered there'd be a spirit competition. Each day one large group would be announced the winner of the spirit flag. My group was always one of the winners. I think this is because one year I was the only leader with a bull horn. Yes, I was fun. I was SO fun that my senior year after Welcome Week I was walking to class and this freshman guy came up to me and said, "Weren't you the leader of the group with the booty cheer?" I proudly replied, "Why yes, I was." He admiringly said, "Oh I wished I was in your group!" I nodded and thought to myself, "I bet they ALL want to by in my group."

How 3 years of reading case after legal case can steal the life out of you!

But I am on a mission to be fun again. I have found myself laughing with the couple I'm staying with and that is a start. I'm telling stories again, and trying to not be so weighed down by life. Even so, I still need help. My friend told me that Georgian Banov, a man that I know to be a spirit-filled worship leader and joy carrier, was going to be in town about an hour away. I knew I needed to go.

So I set off to a charismatic church I had never been to, and realized this seems to be a season of encountering different churches with different forms of worship. I went in with an open mind. I arrived to find Georgian in a jam session with the church's worship team.

Georgian was born into communism in Bulgaria and encountered God because members of the Jesus movement fed him when he came to America. He now travels around, but focuses his outreach to the gypsies. He plays the drums, guitar, and the fiddle and he just worships with abandon. His joy is contagious.

He invited everyone to get out of their chairs and come worship at the front. I found myself near a mother twirling her daughter around and an older black woman skipping about like a newborn calf out of the stall. I thought, I can either be serious up here surrounded by people really enjoying themselves in the Lord or I can let go and just have fun. I decided to have fun and before I knew it I was locking arms and swinging around with the older black woman like we were dance partners at a square dance. I jumped. I danced. I had FUN.

I suddenly found myself laughing and smiling. I didn't know the people around me, but I felt like one of them. I remembered the days of church youth camp where we didn't think anything of cheering and clapping and jumping up and down. We had that youthful zeal for God. And somewhere along the way I lost it.

But I got it back! I engaged in the atmosphere of freedom and joy. I soaked it up even when I felt a little silly. But I looked at those girls dancing with their mothers and how happy they were. They weren't embarrassed. And I wanted to be like them.

By the end of the night I was full of joy. I was so full of joy that God tested me by having me turn on the mainstream contemporary radio station. Normally I loathe most of the contemporary Christian radio. And the first song that came on was Casting Crowns- the pro-type of what I see wrong with mainstream Christian song writing. But God said, "Can you worship to this?" And lo and behold, I was so full of joy I sang along to Casting Crowns- and sort of enjoyed it. I was transformed!

Some of you who know me may be shaking your head saying, "Oh poor Liz, she's going off the Holy Spirit deep end. What will become of her?" Or if you knew someone who used to go to your church and found out they were dancing around with the tongue-speakers you might think they had gone soft on doctrine and were just after some emotional experience. But remember David when the ark returned to Jerusalem. He stripped down and danced before servant girls in unabashed worship to God. His wife despised him for it. When she confronted him about it he replied, "I will become EVEN MORE undignified than this, and I will be humiliated in my own eyes. But," he said, "to the slave girls, I'll be held in honor." (2 Samuel 6)

There's a lot of people from certain denominations or even within charismatic churches that despise it when people start to have too much fun in worship. It's not serious or reverent. Christians are supposed to be straight-faced and solemn to show how great God is. Well, if that is how you feel, you go right ahead, but see how joyful you feel after service. Not everyone has to join the Holy Spirit hoe down at the front. Just don't despise those of us who don't mind humiliating ourselves!

Conference Full of Odd Ducks

On Sunday I got back from a Holy Spirit conference in Long Island NY. A friend from church took me. I had heard of one of the guys who was was speaking, but I wasn't that familiar with him or the other guy who was hosting the conference. I sent the promo email to a couple friends just to show them what I was going to and one friend wrote back that they looked "too pretty" to be legit. I had to admit that the head shots and dark tans gave me pause as to what sort of ministry they could have. I have a strong distaste for fake baking.

But as usual, I went in with an open mind. I was expecting to encounter God. I'm in transition and have been crying out for clarity about where to go next in life. So I figured I had nothing to lose.

I didn't grow up in the church and have never been to an official charismatic church, so I still kind of marvel at what goes on at these charismatic gatherings. I noticed that there was a huge amount of racial diversity, probably due to the fact that the meeting was outside of New York City, but there was also a large amount of personality diversity. I will kindly call them "eccentric people."

Worship had already begun after we arrived and so we found seats near the front. Immediately I was out of my element. They weren't playing the Jesus Culture or Hillsong music I'm used to and I didn't know the songs. People were worshiping freely, which didn't bother me, but I could've gotten distracted.

I thought about how in mainstream churches we all close our eyes and sing our songs to God and get all hot and bothered if someone nearby is swaying too much, or singing off key, or their baby starts crying during the sermon. We think, "How dare that person interrupt my personal worship experience with God!"

I was reminded of a sermon my friend Adam did (see the right tab of this blog and go to his podcast on the Shema), about how worship is supposed to be corporate and not all about the benefits of my personal God. So I decided to open my eyes and look at all these eccentric people. I asked God to help me feel connected to the corporate Body of Christ- not just the people who look like me- but everyone. These strange people. And as I worshiped with my eyes OPEN I looked around the room. I asked God to let me feel His love for those- sorry- weirdos. I got past their dancing and arm waving. I got over how "distracting" they were. Heaven help you if you had ADD. I started to think about what the purpose of worship is anyway. Is it to close your eyes and feel God as if you were alone in a room full of other believers? Or is it to feel the love of God coming from the other believers?

I didn't feel better immediately, but by the second day I really started to appreciate the differences among us all. It occurred to me to ask how much we are really stretched to love people and use our gifts to edify the Body when everyone in our churches looks just like us. How is our love for others tested when we only associate with people we feel comfortable around? How easily are we offended when someone different walks into our church and disrupts our sense of how one should worship God?

I recalled the quote by Mike Bickle of I.H.O.P., the International House of Pancakes- I mean- Prayer... He said, "God offends the mind to reveal the heart." For me a lot of the conference was about offending the areas where my mind had gotten stodgy and comfortable. He wanted to nudge me out of my comfort zone to open me up for greater revelation. He wanted to see if I'd miss it simply because it came out of the mouth of somebody I thought was too tan- or was dressed like an elf. Seriously. At one point I had my eyes closed and was listening to this woman who had come up to share a word. Half way through I opened my eyes to see this small woman wearing a sparkly shirt, puffy pants and boots, with her hair pulled back with this feathery clip that made her ears look more pointy. I thought, "Oh my gosh, that woman really looks like an elf!" I could have been so focused on that, or offended by that, that I missed the fact that she was speaking a powerful word of encouragement.

In the end I got packed full of tons of clarity, direction, and encouragement- all of which I could have missed if I had focused on the oddity of the message barriers.

So next time somebody in church makes you uncomfortable, or someone's expression of worship is different from yours- or even more- their doctrine... ask yourself if you would be willing to miss out on something that God might want to reveal to you through that person just because it comes in a different package than you are used to. And learn from Balaam, who was so blind and resistant to what God was trying to show him that had to hear the truth from his donkey!

All beginnings are hopeful!

"All beginnings are hopeful!" was spoken by the president of Oxford University to the entering freshman class of 1944- in the middle of a world war.

To give credit where it is due, and so you don't think I'm more creative than I am, I actually read that in a workbook called "48 Days to the Work You Love." It was sitting on the dresser in my room when I got here. (Not as a hint either- my friend's mom just started a new career.)

Anyway, I'm sure we have all noticed that it's a new year. I don't have anything profound to say about the new year that hasn't already been written in devotionals, preached in sermons, or mentioned on a morning show. But I would like to share something about how I'm choosing to view my new year.

I have a new journal. I don't know about you, but to me journals are deeply meaningful. I choose each new one carefully, looking for evidence of what life will contain by the design of the cover. Last year's journal had a butterfly on it and the Scripture from Jeremiah 29:11, "For I know the plans I have for you," declares the Lord, "plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you a hope and a future." Indeed the theme of last year was hope. At times it was difficult to remain hopeful in the midst of trials and sorrow, but through it all God remained faithful and moved me closer toward healing and freedom.

As soon as I saw my new journal I immediately knew it would serve as the definition for the new season of life. It is blue with a gold embossed shadow of a tree limb and flower with a yellow sunburst framing a blue butterfly with wings outstretched. In the middle of the golden framing is the solitary word "BEGIN."

Many of my journals are covered with butterflies. I love butterflies for their grace and dignity, but also because of the Christian symbolism of being a new creation. I love the hope that comes from the words of Christ in Revelation, "Behold, I make all things new!" (Revelation 21:5, KJV)

The cool thing about this journal, which distinguishes it from any journal I've ever had before, is that it has no lines. At first I was intimidated by this. "Can I write straight?" I asked myself. But indeed, I am for the most part good at writing straight. (Unless I'm writing on a board on the wall and then I think I write slanting upwards- doesn't that make me an optimist?) Anyway, after a slight hesitation, I quickly embraced the lack of lines. I realized that for the first time my journal can not only contain my written thoughts, inspiring quotes, and Scripture verses, but also drawings and pictures! I am not very artistic, but for once I was inspired to start drawing rough diagrams with stick figures and drawings using colored pens and highlighters! I started putting dreams, visions, and insights to paper which never would have fit in the lines.

And as I'm reassessing my calling, trying to discern where the Lord would have me spend my life, and remembering that I'm a competent person with many gifts and abilities, I'm trying to view my life without lines- without the restrictions and limitations placed on me by myself and others in the past.

Indeed it is a new year, and all beginnings are hopeful! If you are in Christ, your entire life is made new- so take this opportunity of a new calendar year to really search for why you were created! And see your life through the eyes of Christ who removes all the barriers and limitations placed on your life.

2 Corinthians 5:16-17: Now we look inside, and what we see is that anyone united with the Messiah gets a fresh start, is created new. The old life is gone; a new life burgeons! Look at it! (The Message)

Quote of the Day

"Kingdom abundance is not measured in what I have, but what I've given away."

-Bill Johnson, "Dreaming With God."

Greyhound New Year's Part III

So this post finds us at my final leg of my 8 1/2 hour bus ride, which comprised the bulk of my New Year's Day. We have already met Lamont and the chatty Turkish man, but perhaps this next person is my favorite. I will call him "Polite Balloon Salesman."

At the Greyhound station for my 2nd and final transfer, I found another restaurant. I decided not to eat the glossy looking hot dog that I got at the previous station and was hoping this restaurant might offer slightly different variety. There was the same greasy and soggy fried chicken, hot dogs, etc. but this restaurant offered cereal! And little cartons of milk! I was browsing the cereal choices when I noticed a little spat between the weary looking cashier with a tattoo on her wrist and this youngish looking guy. He was wearing a black zip-up jacket over a worn purple shirt with jeans and skater looking shoes. The cashier accused him of cutting in line. He replied, politely, "No miss, I was here standing by this person, but I only have one thing. I can wait. It's no problem." She looked exasperated. He waited and said something nice as he paid and left.

That left an impression on me. He looked sort of scraggly to have turned out that polite. I got my cereal and milk and went to my bus.

It was a pleasant surprise to see him on my final bus. I couldn't help but engage him in conversation. "You were very polite to that lady at the cash register." He said something to the effect that he is polite to everyone- it's a core value of his. The interesting thing was that he was not raised in the south. He had no recognizable accent, which to me made his politeness even more extraordinary.

I asked him if he was done with school, as he looked young. It turned out that he was about as old as I am. We both look young. haha. I asked him what he does with his time. He said he mainly goes to concerts. This guy was getting more intriguing with each question. I asked him if he was a stage hand or something. He said no. I asked how he could afford to go just go to concerts for a living. He said he sort of 'worked' the concerts, to which I asked if this 'work' was illegal. He said 'Not technically.'

So at that point I'm totally hooked. I ask, "What kind of stuff do you sell?" He said, "Balloons." I was like, "Er?" He said, "You know, nitrous oxide, like what they give you at the dentist's office. I put it into a balloon and sell the balloons. It's not regulated by the FDA so it's not illegal, the concert people just don't want you to sell it, so you have to be discrete and good at getting out of situations quickly."

I was totally fascinated. Polite Balloon Salesman had spent the better part of 10 years doing this. He said he was good at it. He had been all over. But the even more interesting thing is that he said he probably could've done anything he wanted to in life because he is so smart. Admittedly he spoke very articulately and adeptly about many topics. He said he tested very high on the IQ scale. I believed him.

So why then, was this super-smart, entrepreneurial guy selling nitrous oxide balloons for so long? First of all, he got in trouble with the law when he was younger and wound up with a felony drug selling charge that kept him from getting regular work. Additionally he said he was a perfectionist and was always frustrated when he did things and they weren't up to the standard of what they should be. So he settled for what he knew he was good at. I could relate. Perfectionism paralyzes you and cripples you with fear of failure.

But after 10 years, a crooked nose from being broken so many times by concert guys- among other various injuries- and the thought of being a 40 year old concert balloon salesman, he decided he needed a new path in life. He missed his pitbull named "Skilla," so-named because she had skills at finding where he hid his money (like in a closed drawer) and shredding it. He said he didn't have anyone he could call when he was in trouble and he was lonely. He wanted some sense of stability. That was something I could also relate to. I asked if he could do anything, what would he do? He said he'd like to make furniture- like really intricate wood working.

I listened to him talk about his life for most of the ride to my final destination, the metropolitan city of Inferior State. He was headed farther north. It was obvious he didn't have anyone to really talk to about his life. I remembered a quote that I had written on this little notepad that I keep in my purse. It said something to the effect of, "The life we have lived need not be the only life we have." I tore it off and gave it to him. He said that was like a poem he had written about where he was in life. I asked if he'd read it to me. He said I could just read it from his journal. He let me read how he regretted the way he had lived his life. He was lonely. He didn't have anyone. He had gotten his heart broken. His heart was burdened.

It was sad. I asked if he'd let me pray to let God take some of that burden. He said he had tried to give God a chance back when life was hard and awful things happened in his family, but it didn't work. Now he was a Buddhist. (As an aside I am amazed at how convenient Buddhism appears to Western people dissatisfied with the idea of God, however I don't think most people really even know what Buddhism is really about. I barely get it after spending hours with the monks!)

The bus had almost reached my final stop and Polite Balloon Salesman decidedly did not want prayer. It was too painful to ask God to do anything, even if I was asking from my own faith. I said, "Well, can I at least give you a hug?" He said he'd take a hug. So I wrapped my arms around him and let them linger there as I said, "Your life matters. You have a purpose. You are smart and you are loved."

I have his info to be friends on Facebook. He is about to start a job at the mall as the manager of a hat store and he is excited to have stable work and benefits. And also to get to spend time with Skilla. I am hoping to keep in touch with him.

At the bus station where I waited for my ride I reflected about starting a new year on a bus. I thought about how uncertain my life still is and how transient I've been. And broke. I would appear to my professional peers as a loser, I suppose. Why can't I get my life together? But then I thought about the Kingdom. What does Jesus value? Stability? Self-sufficiency? A nice title?

No, his treasures are those broken people on that bus. He values the established people in their nice offices too, but those people probably wouldn't admit they need him. But those people on that bus were beyond the pride of trying to conceal their desperation. While most people on the Metro in their suits and ties and heels try to avoid eye contact and prefer not to give you the time of day, as engrossed as they are in their newspapers, novels, and iPods, people on the Greyhound have all day. DAYS perhaps to get where they're going. Nobody thinks they're important. And they talk to you.

So perhaps I was among the unimportant on New Year's rather than recovering from some awesome party with fancy alcohol and well-dressed people of some status. But I have to think that I was with the important people to Jesus, and that he arranged for me to meet the ones that needed some encouragement to start their new year.

The last person I met was a very thin, middle-aged woman who was the janitor. She asked me if I was done with my juice bottle, which I wasn't. I asked her how her new year was going. She said, "Oh, much better than last year!" This year she was happy to have a job- something she did not have for the past 2 years. She was glad to mop the floor around me.

I do not know where this year will take me- or how I will travel wherever it is I will go. But what I do know is that there are people who need to encounter the love of God wherever I am.

"Hi, My Name is Liz. Please don't ask me what I do."

This is too funny not to post! I just attended this new non-denom church with the family I am staying with. I filled out a new person form and got a prompt, and very genuine I have to say, email from the pastor of the young adult class. I told him I'd be interested in meeting with him at the church to find out more about their ministry, but then wrote this:

PS- I have to admit I have an extreme aversion to single's groups. I actually have avoided entire churches because they were comprised of what I call "young professional pretty people." For my entire stay at the First Baptist Church of [Hometown] I avoided the Single's group- opting instead to work with the youth and attend their Sunday School. This decision was not primarily to avoid the Single's Sunday School class, but I must admit, it had a lot of bearing on my decision.

I also am averse to a lot of meet-and-greets. This is b/c I don't have a job. So "What do you do?" is a very maddening question. People don't ask, "What is your life about?" or "What has God give you a vision for?" Also, "Where do you live?" has been a hard question. So yeah, really anything inquiring about a career or referring to any sort of stable residence is difficult. As you can glean, meet-and-greets are like a social gauntlet.

Perhaps you can consider that before you tell me about the ministry you lead.

I once wanted to go to a Christian yoga class that was hosted by this non-denom church. I was struggling with road rage that week and a free yoga class sounded like the prescription for some much needed stress relief. I looked forward to setting down my mat, breathing deeply, and stretching. I arrived after a ton of traffic and after a long day of document review. I put down my mat, the class started, and the teacher explained how the class would go- and then invited us to get into small groups to introduce ourselves! Meet and greet. At a frickin' yoga class.

My friend who invited me to the class said I was emanating such a fierce vibe of disapproval she felt it across all the way across my mat and the look on my face was complete disgust. I tried my best to think of some witty fact about myself to deflect the attention from having to divulge I'm not regularly employed. I faked it well enough. But really I just wanted to get to the yoga. But first I had to put a NAME TAG on my yoga mat!

I am hoping this new church will not succumb to the dorky evangelical, non-denom culture of superficial welcoming rituals. Will be sure to recount how my meeting with the pastor goes!

Greyhound New Year's Part II

I did not meet the person I felt that God had in mind in booking me a ticket on Greyhound until I made my first transfer. I had already eaten the turkey sandwich and carrots that I packed myself for lunch and about 6 hours into the trip I was feeling pretty hungry. I didn't know if the next Greyhound station would have anything more than vending machines, such as the stupid machine that ate my dollar and gave me nothing when I tried to buy peanut butter crackers. That was my only dollar and I had no change, so my hopes of food were getting slim.

Thankfully there was a small restaurant at the next station. I lugged my large rolling bag, topped with my heavy heavy carry-on complete with laptop, hairdryer, my favorite books (all heavy items and stuff I didn't want anyone to steal!), to the counter to order. My choices did not look very appetizing- soggy and greasy looking fried chicken, hot dog (which never looks good to me), low quality hamburger, etc. I decided if I was going to eat bad food, I'd just eat food that I already have a low opinion of, so I got the hot dog and tried to add healthiness by getting cranberry juice and a banana. Then I went to make sure I hadn't missed my bus.

You never quite know what's going on in the structure of Greyhound which falls somewhere between chaos and disorder. Nobody ever knows when the bus is leaving, or where to line up, and everyone is lagging from one line to the next worn, hungry, tired, and carrying life's sorrow and burdens. You get the sense that everyone on that bus has seen hard times in life and you could spend the greater portion of your enormously long ride listening to them.

I realized I had time to go to the bathroom again- which by the way reminded me of my travels in 3rd world nations because there was NO toilet paper! Hello, how is there absolutely NO toilet paper in any of the stalls of the ladies' room in AMERICA?! Anyway, so I go to wash my hands, and drop my bag of food on the floor. Gross. And the lid of my cranberry juice snapped so it spilled all over the floor. Now I am cursing, trying to salvage the juice, and trying to manage my uber-heavy luggage. And not miss my bus.

That is the state I was in when I met Lamont. He was standing in front of me in the line that I realized was the one for my next bus. The only reason I spoke to him was because he didn't move when the line advanced. And also I wanted to make sure I was in the right line. I spoke to him and asked him where he was heading. Way father than me. He had a ski cap with the plastic hook still attached to the top, a heavy coat, and some of his belongings in a plastic trash bag. God told me to give him $20 of the only $50 I had left. I knew he was the person I was supposed to meet.

I said, "God told told me to give you this." He said, "Oh thank you, God bless you!" He made sure to get a seat by me and offered to help me with my heavy carry-on. I asked him a bit about himself. He didn't know where he was going to stay when he got to his final destination and said he was looking for work. I told him a bit about my struggles and said, "I know God loves you and wants to encourage you. Can I pray in agreement with you for God to find you a place to stay and people to help you find work?" So he agreed to pray with me and stuck out his hand to clasp mine- the hand which he had just used to blow his nose- so I deduced he had a cold. My friend's words about washing my hands often came to mind. I decided to just pray with the man, consciously not touch anything with that hand, and then wash it at the next stop.

Lamont didn't want to talk in depth about his life and there was a chatty Turkish man behind me, so I talked to him for a while. He told me he was going to a training to complete his commercial driver's license. He could make a lot of money driving a truck and he was very excited that the company was paying for his training. We spoke a lot about Turkey. His vocabulary and grammar were good, but his accent and the way that he smushed all his words together in a sentence made him difficult to understand as I craned my neck behind me to listen to him with his face shoved between the two seats on my row. He said he didn't have friends. He told me he had a wife in Turkey, but they got divorced, but now they talk every night and he might marry her again to bring her to America once he becomes a citizen. He was so pleased to talk to me he gave me one of his sodas and offered me his food. I said I like pides (like Turkish pizza) and he said he was sorry that he had already eaten the one he had brought because he would've given it to me! By the end of the bus ride he was offering me an all-expense paid trip to Turkey. "Maybe in the spring of next year you can come to Turkey with me. I will buy your ticket. Will you contact me and I can take you to Turkey?"

Hahaha. Knowing me I'll actually go!

And that ends the tale of my 2nd bus ride.

Greyhound New Year's Part I

New Year's day found me at a Greyhound bus station. I ended my stay at my temporary abode with my friend in Quaint Small Town and have embarked on a new season of life. I am now staying in a rural part of what I will call "Inferior State" because it is not Virginia. My bus trip totaled 8 1/2 hours from the main city outside of Quaint Small Town to the metropolitan area of Inferior State. Now I'm staying in Rural Town outside of the capital of Inferior State.

My friend has not traveled much in life and my travel arrangements were made very last minute, so she did not actually realize the caliber of travel she was signing me up for when she booked me a ticket on Greyhound. We got to the station and she said, "Oh my gosh- perhaps this was a mistake. Well be sure to wash your hands often!" I, on the other hand, saw opportunity amidst the cross-section of raw humanity that you encounter in the Greyhound world. "Perhaps there is someone God wants me to meet," I replied. But secretly I did not look forward to 8 1/2 hours on the bus, including 2 transfers.

The first leg of the journey I did not encounter much. I sat and looked out the window at the passing rural landscape. I was reminded of other long trips with hours of rural scenery, like my 16 hour train ride from Delhi to Bombay. I asked myself how I am always seemingly in transition and if all this instability could really be considered adventure. It was then that God said, "You see the invisible Kingdom. Not everyone sees what you see."

I think that's true. My friend looked at the Greyhound station and saw dirty people and germs. I saw the opportunity for Jesus to encounter broken people. Stay tuned for those stories!