Friday the 27th

I wasn't planning on this being a blog where I share about how my day was or what I did--this is not going to be a junior high diary--I never did that anyway.

I'm going to share about my Friday July 27th--to share both my personal experience and feelings, what I learned, and the theology the evening birthed.

I worked from 5:30 a.m. until 3:30 p.m.--fun but very long. And I wasn't able to fall asleep until past midnight the night before. Hence, I was tired when 3:30 rolled around.
It was Friday night, a night you're kind of socially expected to "go out" or at least NOT spend it alone. I haven't had a job or been in school since mid-March...so to go back to intense hours hit me hard that afternoon...and I wasn't really in the social mood. I was feeling drained: physicall, spiritually, emotionally, mentally... I was feeling spiritually empty. So I decided on the drive home from work that I would go to the 6:30 Taize service at St. James Cathedral downtown (it's every friday night so DEFINITELY go if you never have). I almost didn't go, however, because when I got home I sat on the couch and almost decided to not move for the rest of the night. I knew this would not be good for me...for many different reasons.

So I got myself into my car and to the Cathedral. I was actually feeling kind of lonely...alone.
And I rarely feel that way when I am physically alone. I went into the Cathedral, and my first instinct was to sit in a section where no one else was--I was thinking, "I didn't know anyone anyway, and this way I can be alone and pray and process. " Right after I thought that I knew I should deny my isolationist tendencies. I was in a church--with the body of Christ, of which I am a part. I would make myself sit with people. So I did. But I sat in row all alone. Well, that obviously wasn't good enough for God.

After sitting there for a few minutes in silence praying and preparing myself for the service, a lady came up to me and asked if I'd like to carry the icon of Jesus on the cross during this one part of the service. I told her I didn't know how to do it!! I wasn't lying. I really didn't know what she meant. She told me it was really easy but that it took two people. She went and asked this other lady sitting alone a few pews up if she'd carry it with me. She then looked back and waved at me to come sit by her--so I did. Her name was Maria. We sat together. We worshipped together. We had never met. And then we carried Christ's cross together.

I thought I was going to spend Friday night alone. I thought going to the Taize service was going to "seal the deal" on my aloneness. Wrong. God just won't leave me alone =). And i'm sure glad about that.
How beautiful to experience God in the face and presence and voice and "family-hood" of Maria and the other people sitting there with us. I walked out of the building NOT feeling alone.

And then I met Les. As I walked down the Cathedral steps, a black man in about his late-40's, early 50's walked up to me and asked me if Father So-and-So from St. James was at the service. I told him I didn't know. Les attends there. He stated right away that he was homeless and not looking for money for drugs or alcohol. He needed money to buy medicine for his Epilepsi and for a bus ticket to get to a place to stay in Tacoma. Well, I wanted to get to know him a little bit more before I gave him money, but also because he was so kind, not harrassing, and his eyes were so sad. I saw my own pain in his eyes. I've seen those eyes on me before.

We got to talking, and he has and does struggle a lot with depression. We share that. We talked about the different anti-depressant medications we've tried. We talked about not wanting to get up in the morning. We talked about not feeling like we even have energy to ask for help. We understood each other. We both were looking for a little understanding and love that night...and we found it.

I gave him the $6.50. Who know's if he used it for what he said he would. It really doesn't matter to me. I told him I'd be praying for him, and he was thankful. He told me he had been praying about who to ask for help because he didn't know if he had the strenght to endure rejection that night...I was God's answer to his prayer.
...And he was mine.

For some reason on Friday I thought I needed to get away from people to meet with Jesus. Turns out we meet with Jesus by being with people. I met Jesus in Maria. I met Jesus in Les. He refuses to leave me alone.

He refuses to let me be alone.