The terror of Christmas

I started to write this the week beginning December 19 - the 4th Sunday in Advent. So, as it's a little behind in dates, but it needed more thought and editing before releasing it to the world. So here it is - thoughts from the end of 2010.

This week is a strange week - the final week in advent. It is great, but it is also strange. I say this because recently I have had some good conversations around why we celebrate Christmas; the fact that God chose to come into the world as one of us, as a human being, embodied as a man. While still fully God, Jesus was fully human. And he came, not to condemn the world, but to save the world through him. For God so LOVED the world..." God, the giver, gave.

Having read the Christmas story many, many times, sung carols for more years than I care to admit, and wrapped gifts with little thought of why I am doing such a thing, this year I was struck by the terror of Christmas.

Too often I have thought of Christmas as clean and tied up just like the cute and glittery gifts that adorn our homes and environments. But after preaching a message last week which was all around the theme of not being afraid, I was impacted by the number of times that God spoke through prophets and leaders to encourage and impact his people to not be afraid. From Abraham, Hagar, Jacob, Isaac, Moses, Joshua, Gideon, David, Solomon, to Jesus exhorting the disciples to not let their hearts be troubled and not to be afraid. Even the apostle, Paul had to have this reminder to not be afraid.

There is no doubt that we are not born with courage - who has ever yelled at or has scared a young child to be met with anything other than a response of fear and cries? That is the obvious human reaction. We are not born with courage; that has to be developed and encouraged. And so the teenager, Mary, on hearing that she was going to have a baby heard these words from Gabriel because she had every reason to be afraid.

"Do not be afraid, Mary, you have found favor with God." (Luke 1:30)

She was young, not yet married and lived in a time where women and girls were not valued. Then Gabriel gave her the news that she had been chosen to be the mother of a son and not just any son; the Son of God, the Son of the Most High - and all this by the power of the Holy Spirit.
Culturally, her family would probably have disowned her, possibly worse might have befallen her had not Joseph also heard that command to not be afraid,

An angel of the Lord appeared to him in a dream and said, "Joseph, son of David, do not be afraid to take Mary home as your wife, because what is conceived in her is from the Holy Spirit." (Matthew 1:20)

How terrifying when Mary considered that she was not yet married and for her family and in-laws family to discover that she was pregnant before marriage would have meant one sure and certain thing - death for adultery. How else would Mary have become pregnant? She had to have been with another man. And yet, Mary's reply to the angel is amazing and remarkable;

"I am the Lord's servant...May it be to me according to your word."

Joseph, whom we so often overlook in the story (especially if we neglect to read Matthew's gospel) also obeyed;

"Joseph did what the angel of the Lord had commanded him and took Mary home as his wife."

So, in the midst of global catastrophes, deaths from natural disasters, men, women and children receiving unfavorable doctor's reports, unemployment statistics rising, homes being repossessed, and many more calamities personal and devastating, we are commanded to not be afraid. How is this possible? Mary's answer was to say the following;

"My soul glorifies the Lord and my spirit rejoices in God my savior, for he has been mindful of the humble state of his servant. From now on all generations will call me blessed, for the Mighty One has done great things for me - holy is his name. His mercy extends to those who fear him, from generation to generation.
He has performed mighty deeds with his arm; he has scattered those who are proud in their inmost thoughts. He has brought down rulers from their thrones but has lifted up the humble. He has filled the hungry with good things but has sent the rich away empty. He has helped his servant Israel, remembering to be merciful to Abraham and his descendants forever, just as he promised our ancestors.”

So in the midst of uncertainty, the end of one year, the beginning of another, may we not be afraid of what is to come.

GREAT is THY faithfulness.

Pardon for sin and a peace that endureth
Thine own dear presence to cheer and to guide
strength for today and bright hope for tomorrow
Blessings all mine with ten thousand beside

GREAT is thy faithfulness, great is thy faithfulness,
Morning by morning new mercies I see,
ALL I have needed thy hand hath provided,
GREAT is thy faithfulness,
Great IS thy faithfulness, Lord unto me.

I love the words to this hymn and right now, I am needing to fully believe that God is faithful no matter what the circumstances. Right now, I have 2 more weeks to legally stay in the USA. After that date, I have to leave, whether or not I want to or am ready for that situation. The reality in being a foreigner, alien and stranger has never been this clear.

So I have nothing else to do but fully rely on God's faithfulness and put my trust in that REALITY and consider that He has indeed given me the strength that I need for today and bright HOPE for tomorrow. There is no one else to whom I can turn other than my creator and the maker and sustainer of the universe.

That's enough for today.

Moments...

Recently I have been thinking about moments. In 1983 a movie called, "Yentil" came into our cinemas. Starring Barbra Streisand, the movie was filled with songs featuring the actress. I really liked the music and there was one song that I came to mind recently - "Moment." The lyrics start like this:

"There are moments you remember all your life. There are moments you wait for And dream, of all your life. This is one of those moments!"

I say this becuase I am continually being asked and ask of others, questions like, "How was your day?" The expected answer is either, good, bad, OK, "not too shabby" and anything other that is as committal or non-committal as I wish to be. However, I don't think that I have "good" days or "bad" days. What I have are days that are made up of good or bad or indifferent moments. There are moments when I am filled with hope and joy and notice God's creation around me and marvel at the miraculous nature of life and of which I get to be a part. Then there are moments when I wonder with loud screaming anxiety at how I will get through the rest of the day because hope and great expectation are so far from my current reality. So there are moments in each day that I will remember, perhaps not for all of my life but for a few days to come. Of course there are moments that I will remember all my life; my wedding day (or rather parts of it), graduation, watching a sunset, drinking wine with friends, while watching the sun set, hearing the breeze on the ocean as I sleep - can life really get any better?

I am learning to look for the moments when I am acutely aware of God's presence in my life and in the lives of others and how to cultivate more of those moments.

Today has been a mostly good day; more good moments than not so.

Communication...incarnationally.

This particular post was inspired by the movie, "Sisterhood of the traveling pants 2." Towards the end of the movie the 4 main characters come together and try to help one of the team reconnect with the love of her young life. However, in our world of multiple communication possibilities, the conversation reminded me that the best way to communicate with each other (in my opinion) is the good old fashioned face to face kind.

The four converse as follows:

"What?
I didn't want to worry you....I tried to tell you so that's why I came up to your place but we got into that huge fight...
I emailed everybody...
I emailed you...Don't look at me. It's not my fault if I have a bad server...

"Oh well, thank God for email. You can have an entire relationship and not even look at someone. Emails, guys, really??? That's lame!"

I rest my case...

I really love to have at least phone-to-phone conversation with friends but sometimes it is just not possible. I get that. But it is my preferred mode of communication, short of actually seeing the people with whom I am talking. I think what this comment above does for me is remind me that when I am "conversing" on facebook, sending conversational emails or even texting, I am kidding myself into a false reality of close relationships. I know that I do not wish to have closeness with every human being I meet, but there are times when I feel really lonely and lost and this could be some of the reason why that's the case.

Still considering...

Love is the Killer App

This is the title to a book written by Tim Sanders in 2003. At one time Sanders worked for Yahoo! and during his time there came to not only know the Lord, AND, more importantly and pertinently, he learned how to love as Jesus loved. Long before anyone knew anything about Apps for iphone, Apps for business, Apps for work, Apps for music, Apps for whatever you want an App ...Sanders took God's idea and came up with the THE App...LOVE and used it for his book. The thesis of the book is that love means a different way of leading people, of teaching them and directing them in the business world. Love wins - always.

Recently a friend was telling me about a conversation that she had had with her teenage son. He was having difficulty with a teacher in school and things were getting tricky. This teacher meant a lot to him and both were passionate about their subject but the young man did not like the manner in which he was being taught. Both student and teacher knew it and were struggling. My friend sat him down, looked him straight in his eyes and with all the deep and hard love that she has for her delightful and gifted youngest born said to him, "It doesn't really matter if you like him or not. You have to be bold and talk to him and get this sorted. You have to do that because it is not what he is expecting and we are to be different. We are called to LOVE because love is the difference. Love wins - every time."

Love wins - every time.

During the summer I played on a softball team and we were part of a league; a league that is made up of teams from across our denominational churches. We have had a lot of fun playing together and we have been able to get to know our peers better and some for the first time. Some of the team are really good players having hit balls, turned bases and made home runs since they were in elementary school, others on the team have never held a softball, let alone made it to home plate (how do you hold a bat properly anyway?). Our team made it to the playoffs and for the first game of the finals, our team of 10 showed up ready to warm up. However, that night, something was up. Guys who usually hit the ball out of the field were firing the large white object straight at the opposition making for easy catches. Women who have no trouble catching from any direction fumbled with the thing as if it were their first time on the base....we did not play well - at all. Our faces said it all, but what was more disturbing was the behavior of the opposing team. They were yelling at each other, turning bases like there was no tomorrow, and screaming at the umpire if he called a "wrong" call. OK, let's get real here. Our team might not have shown any shoddy behavior that night, but we have probably done before. However, that night any onlooker watching us would probably turn in disgust as they learned that we were a "church" league and might therefore decide that all those churchy people are really hypocrites after all....but worse because we say that we love each other and act like Jesus in ways that set us apart in a good way, but the reality is that we are just like the Pharisees.

Love wins - every time.

We are called to love each other and that might mean saying some words that we do not want to say because we might look bad but we need to take courage and say them all the same. Loving each other might be to encourage the other team just because no one ever does. Loving others might mean stepping back to let someone else get the prize because nothing is more important than loving one another as we love ourselves. Loving might be giving financially when no one else is looking or picking up the tab just for the heck of it or staying the extra hour when we would rather be home or or or...

Love wins - every time.

Love is doing what the world would encourage you to not do.

Jesus was not messing around when he told his disciples to love their neighbors as they loved themselves. He knew he was calling them to something different, something that the world did not, nor perhaps was not able to offer. He loved the woman at the well because she was a human being made in God's image and so he talked with her when no one else would. He loved Peter even though he knew that Peter would desert him in the dark moments on trial. Jesus loved Judas as he watched him get up from the table and betray him with a kiss. As he was hanging on the cross in unbelievable agony, Jesus loved the soldiers who sat before him, casting lots for his clothing.

And more than 2000 years later, Jesus calls me into a life of grace covering all my mistakes, mishaps, junk and deep down nonsense, calling me to love others as he has shown me to do.

Love wins - every time.

A white coat with a gold cross does not a chaplain make.

"Consecrate yourselves, for tomorrow the Lord will do amazing things among you” (Joshua 3:5)

How many times do I go to sleep thinking these words spoken by Joshua to the people? Not many. And yet I do believe that God can and does do amazing things...most of the time I am not cognizant of His activity. Well, today I think that I am. I believe that all summer, from the beginning of June until now, God has been doing amazing things among us. And I say, "us," because I have been working alongside an "us" for the past twelve weeks at an urban hospital that provides medical, surgical and emergency care fulfilling my C.P.E. requirements as the final part of my MDiv degree at North Park Theological Seminary. For those who are not familiar with the acronyms in Seminary, C.P.E. is Clinical Pastoral Education and in order to graduate from North Park, the MDiv students must complete at least six credits of C.P.E. For me, that meant walking the hallways of the hospital from June until the middle of August.

I am not kidding when I say that I felt slightly sick at the thought of spending that amount of time in a hospital and given the choice, I had no wish to do so. But I had no choice in whether or not my wishes mattered as I had to fulfill the requirements of the call. I have heard the stories from those who have gone before me in this call:

• all my issues will surface and will get in the way of "being" with patients
  
• I will spend considerable amounts of time wrestling with difficult situations
• I will be forced to reconsider what is allowed in a human life (i.e. various views on whether or not God was responsible)
• I will have to consider how unfair life or that my theology of human suffering does not even come close to the reality of the actuality which happens in families who are as broken and wretched as we are but have to admit it because they are lying in a shapeless green gown upon a hospital bed wondering what they did to deserve their lot.

However my experience in walking the floors of the hospital did not match my feared assumptions. In fact the past twelve weeks have been some of the most transformational weeks of my seminary life. I have told close friends that I believe that God gave me a "gracious" time while in the hospital. By that I mean that some of the things I was most dreading facing did not ask for my attention. I am certain and sure that had I had to be with a family who were suffering the loss of a baby, young child or fetal demise (natural abortion) I would have been the one in need of pastoral care and so for reasons that God knows, I was not asked to be there for those distraught families (and these things happen with painful regular reality). My "hardest" night was my final night on call when I dealt with three deaths and while standing with the family who were learning of the sudden and dramatic death of their beloved 43 year old husband of one, father of two, and friend of many, another young man staggered through the emergency doors with 5 gun shots wounds to his body. While the Police and the hospital security dealt with the mayhem that erupted outside, trained surgeons and night staff crammed into ER3 to stabilize the 22 year old. I am not sure if he survived the night as he was transferred to a trauma hospital shortly after his arrival where he was first admitted.

What I did learn during my twelve weeks was that the most important thing we can offer to patients and their families is our time and attention; unlimited, unhurried, time. Some of my visits to the men and women who needed medical care were short and uneventful. Others called for extended visits and when family members and patients asked if they were taking up too much of my time I learned to use a phrase that I have heard from another pastor: "You are the most important thing I have going on today." I suppose most of us seldom hear this phrase as we live in a culture of constant busyness. No one seems to have time for anyone, least of all for people they don't even know. We hardly have time for those we already love and for whom we care let alone for those we have just met or are being paid to visit. (OK...during the summer I was not being paid a dime but imagine with me ...)

One of my colleagues shared with me during our five hour course evaluation that she was concerned that I was not going to make it through as the first thing we did during our orientation was to visit the morgue. She was right. I was a mess. In front of me was a big black bag with the curves and shape of a person who at one time must have been loved by someone.
As I moved to allow another to come into the chilly basement, I turned to look behind me and saw a small, red bag that looked no more than the size of a target grocery bag. It had the distinct shape of a human life - except that there was no life contained in that bag, only a few pounds of human remains that contained so much potential for growth and promise but was stopped too short. The cold of the room did not stop me from sensing that unless I hotfooted it out of the door pretty fast, I might end up lying on the floor instead of walking on it. My colleague was not the only one wondering if I was going to get through his hospital ordeal and be intact twelve weeks later.

I became acutely cognizant that every person I met in the hospital whether doctor or nurse, housekeeper or security guard, patient or staff member is a human being made in the image of God and is therefore fearfully and wonderfully made. Our bodies do not work as we desire they should, cells turn from healthy and normal to cancerous and abnormal, bones get broken, hearts stop, organs get overloaded and quit functioning, and we forget that we are fragile and in need of healing. Then there is a soul that seems not to get a look in though as seminary students we are reminded that we are really souls with a body rather than bodies with a soul.

Early on in my time there I was paged to the IMCU (Intermediate Care Unit) and upon entering the room I saw a man who was no more than 30 years old, writhing on the bed and moaning quietly. Earlier that day he had tried to take his life and had botched the job leaving a mess of a life lying in front of me. Beside him sat a young woman, a sitter, unknown to him whose eyes were mostly fixed on her phone which she was using possibly using to text her friends to establish evening plans. Occasionally she would look up at the T.V. above the bed and she did throw me a glace when I entered the room. "What happened?" I asked her. "He tried to kill himself and he missed," she replied, a wry smile crossing her face. Her attitude was not kind but to her, this young man was only that; some young man. As she returned her attention to her phone, I wanted to ask her more questions but she most likely would not have the answers. I wanted to ask her if she cared that this young man hated his life so much that he had tried to end it. I wanted to ask her if she would ever think of doing such a thing or had she ever thought about it. I wanted to ask him who would miss him if he had succeeded in his effort. I wanted to ask him about the woman who had given him birth, the brothers and sisters he may have had. I wanted to ask him if he knew that there was a God who loved him or a Jesus who died for him but all he did was continue to moan and writhe on the narrow hospital bed. His situation was desperate but he was one who helped me realize with astonishing clarity that every life is precious and mysterious and fearful and wonderful and we cannot ever take it for granted.

Last things....always means that something else is about to start.

I text-ed a friend at the beginning of this week saying this was a week of last things; last time in the hospital, last one-on-one meeting with my supervisor, last group meeting, last on-call. She text back something like this: "Oh I love last things because that means that there is more ahead." She had a completely different view on my situation. I was thinking to myself that although this is a week of last things, I have little idea of what is next and that puts me in a vulnerable position. it's all very well thinking that last things always lead to next things but it would be kind of lovely and settling to know what is that "next".

Today I wrote my final papers that I will ever write for seminary - ever. No PhD for me - that's for sure. Tomorrow's group meeting will complete the final requirements that will fulfill all that i need to do in order to get my diploma and attach MDiv after my name - that I will never actually do, but I could if I wanted. Last things always lead to new things and "new" things might not be as good as the last. However, I do believe that God has called me to GOOD things and they are always good but perhaps it might be hard to see the good in them - perhaps...at first. When I left Bend, OR, I could not believe that I could ever have as good a place to be and live and grow as where's as beautiful as Bend (there was more to it than that, but that is all I am sharing just now). As I headed out of the city and saw the mountains grow small in my rear view mirror, I distinctly heard the Spirit whisper to me, "Do you not think I could be that good to you again?" And by good I mean to be with people who hike and bike and swim and sail and walk and know that they are fortunate to live in such a place that allows them to do this. By good I mean to be with people who love hard and hurt and cry with and for each other when others are hurting and pray and learn and grow and admit that there is no such thing as "having it all together." By good I mean to have daily time to be in God's Word and learn and search and listen and watch God up to amazing things EVERY DAY and notice those things and get to be a part of them.

Last things are always good because they mean the start of more ahead....

A transitional moment

"In a transition you strip away all those things that are not important and you discover what is real." (Erwin McManus)

I heard this statement this morning and it resonated so powerfully with everything that is going on with me right now - and in the lives of some of the people closest to me. This past Sunday we hosted a party for a friend who is leaving the US after being here for just over five years and is returning to his home country of Japan. I say "home" loosely because home for him has also included the UK. However, a week from today he is flying out of the US, via California and heading out east around the globe to japan. As three of us were chatting in the kitchen tidying and washing the evidence of plates of food and drinks, our Japanese friend remarked that he was grieving; thinking of the loss of the what he has had in Chicago for the past nearly six years - two of those years were out of school and out of Chicago - but here has been in the USA working towards his 2nd Master's degree and now he is looking to be on staff with a ministry in his country of origin working with students. So he grieves; the friends he has made and will not see for a long while again (if at all), the life as student which does come with responsibilities of studying and assignments but has freedoms that most of us do not realize until we are out of school, and deep relationships that can never be matched because we will never be the same again - ever - we will never have this time again, in this place with these people because moments only come in the time that we have them.

So I am learning that grieving does not only come when a life passes from here to the next, but when relationships are broken through geographical change and situation. We have technology to simulate connection but there was a reason that when God made the earth and everything in it, He looked at Adam and said, "It is not good for man to be alone." All the creatures had another but the human being had no suitable partner. We were never meant to be alone; in fact we were made for relationship to one another even though that gets messy at times. We were meant to live in community with one another and it is not good for anyone to be alone. That does not mean that we always have to live in each others lives in an unhealthy co-dependent way, but it does means that when a part of the body (and I mean "body" in a 1 Corinthians type of way) moves away, however that manifests itself (physically in this case), the body will hurt, possibly only for a while, but probably more.

Good -bye, Yasu, at least for the time being.

The sounding of TIME

I do not know why I suddenly feel so compelled to write - twice in two days - but I think it has to do with the fact that I have noticed the Big Ben-style clock located on our college campus has started to ding every 15 minutes. It was about a week ago, when sitting on the grass with two other CPE colleagues, we were remarking on the fact that the clock only dings at Noon and at 5pm - never at any other time. So I am acutely aware that it is now dinging every 15 minutes because it sure did not do that before. Also, what happened to the music? After the noon day and 5pm chimes, we were always entertained with some well known hymn; well known, that is, if you are a Covenanter - particularly if you have Swedish roots or heritage. Some of these hymns I know: I ought to as I am about to be a pastor but more so than that, I actually love hymns so when "Be thou my vision," "Great is thy faithfulness," "How Great thy art," or any such familiarity sounds across the campus, my subconscious picks up and starts singing along with them. However, no such melodies ring out after the chimes any more. Perhaps they will return along with the voices of 2000 college students in less than a month's time though I will not be here to hear them. My time on this campus is nearly over - and it's time to move. Move, that is, from being a Seminary student to something else, hopefully that something else will involve a pay packet miraculously entering my bank account with regular certainty.

So, what has this got to do with the songless clock? Everything. It brings with great clarity the passing of time and how much I use it well, waste it, consider it, wonder about what it will bring next, how much we have left of it, what will I do with it today, this time next week, next month, next year, next decade...what will time be doing with me, in me, about me and around me? Hearing the passing of each 15 minute intervals is not helpful. Not right now anyway.
In Edinburgh, the city where I was born and raised, a daily ritual takes place from the battlements of the Castle. The locals affectionately call this ritual the "One o'clock gun." Yup, that's right, Scotland being as old as it is has castles and battlements and tour guides playing dress-up in crazy uniforms telling the visitors the history and wonders of my country of birth (which is quite different from the fantastical version depicted in "Braveheart." Every day, since 1861, the gun has fired at 1pm as a time signal for shipping in the Firth of Forth and the Port of Leith. Now, each time that gun is fired, all within range know that the time and will instinctively look at their watches (though I suspect the watch looking will have been replaced by the reaching for our phones as those of us under a certain age do not wear watches anymore).

The thing is, though, I do not want to be reminded of time and it's passing; I am already more than aware of that reality. In two weeks I will cease to be a chaplain at Swedish Covenant Hospital and I will not be living in this apartment. I will most likely have no job to go to and have no definite plans as to what is next. Friends will have moved away, new people will have arrived on campus with whom I will not get to know, and what am I doing in the USA anyway? (A question my parents ask themselves daily).

A continual theme that keeps surfacing in my life is "Do not worry." Versions on the theme include, "Do not be anxious," "Trust in the Lord, " Be strong and courageous, "Do not be afraid," "Do not be discouraged;" you get the picture. I have been immersed in Scriptures that force me to trust. (Did I really use the word, "force?" Oh, yes, I did...) Over a year ago, the beginning of the book of Joshua spoke loudly into my life and I was caught by how many times God tells Joshua to be strong and courageous, do not be afraid, be VERY strong; over and over again, so there must have been a good reason for God to say this to Joshua of all people. Isn't Joshua one of those people who we first think of being a risk taker, a mover and shaker, and one who need not be told to be strong or courageous or reminded that God is with him? After all, he and his mate Caleb were the only two out of the twelve that obeyed their leader Moses and did what they were asked in seeking out the land that had ALREADY been promised to them by God. They came back with a good report - actually it was a great report. And now Moses is dead and God tells Joshua that it's his turn; "Moses my servant is dead. Now then, you (and all these people)." But really the emphasis is on you; you, Joshua, you. There's no time for grieving, Joshua. Yup, you have lost your mentor, friend, leader and supporter, but you do not have time to grieve the moment. In my current chaplain thinking, this is not good advice. He needs time to mourn, to grieve, to remember all the good and happy times that they had together, leading the Israelites...
But I digress...this is the theme in my life: BE STRONG, do not be afraid, do not be discouraged, for the Lord your God will be with you wherever you go. Those final three words are the most terrifying right now because I do not know where I am about to go. So, I keep on trusting (actually growing in my trust in the Lord), knowing that somewhere deep in my being, though the future is uncertain, it is a future WITH God; with my maker and sustainer, with my leader and provider, with the giver of supernatural peace and provision even in the midst of worldly circumstances that would speak loudly to tell me otherwise.

There goes another round of dings to signal the passing of another 15 minutes...

Coffee

Did I tell you that I am addicted to coffee? I say, "you," because there might be someone reading this though I doubt it. I have not posted for nearly a year for lots of reasons, the first being that writing a blog was the least of my priorities over the past 12 months. The second being that there seems not much to write about and everyone is writing a blog, most of them not worth the reading unless you are that writer's mother.... Even then, there's enough Facebook to keep us all occupied in other's lives without getting hooked on blogs as well. Nevertheless, here is another blog post from me.

So, back to coffee - I am addicted. Actually, the truth is that I am addicted to becoming a Starbucks "gold" member - in much the same way that George Clooney's character in "Up in the air" was addicted to becoming a million mile member - or was it billion? I am not sure; I saw the movie only one time and at that stage in the movie I had written it off as a little depressing...

However, back to coffee. Starbucks company have made the possibility of my becoming a gold member far too easy so as the goal is obtainable, even for a graduate student at the end of her studies (i.e. no money), I am on the road to get my card. I wonder how I will feel once I get to my goal? Probably a little dissatisfied so perhaps I should not be so eager to get to it. It is encouraging me to buy coffee for others though so in my selfish ambition, am I actually a little generous? Perhaps, but only a little. A couple of weeks ago I actually persuaded a friend to go with me to Caribou instead of Starbucks but I was disappointed with that too...not strong enough...and $4 for coffee and hot milk...an overpriced drink calling itself a vanilla latte (extra hot) was not worth the money. For a brief moment on a Sunday morning, I can buy a luxury item and enjoy it...but the moment is only a moment.

The thing is though, I really love the coffee. Actually, I love the idea of the process in making the coffee - the final drinking of drinking it is not as good as the making of it. Grinding the beans, filling the container with freshly filtered water, and hearing the gurgling of the machine as the water turns from clear to a beautiful shade of dark chocolate in a mug - yum - the perfect accompaniment to Bible and journal in the early hours of the day. I have definitely upped my intake of coffee - Starbucks CEO and shareholders rejoice - but wonder what havoc it is causing to my insides.

Tomorrow I am going to a friend's wedding. After the last wedding I attended I said that was it for me in weddings unless it was my own. However the comment was rash in that I already knew that I would be coming to this one - I will smile and look like I am really happy for the couple (which is true) and that I am quite content in my non-married state (which is not true). I honestly thought that I would be married by now - isn't that supposed to be the "normal" course of events? High school, college, job/career/ married/children/grad school? I missed out those middle 2 - I know that marriage is not the be all and end all.....but it would be nice....

Ok, time to get some beauty sleep in the hope that I may meet someone tomorrow....I have hoped for that before at other friend's weddings...

Good night....whoever you are.