It doesn't take much to amuse me...

I currently have a total of 912 songs on my IPod. For whatever reason (I'm a little OCD at times), I decided recently to listen to EVERY song in alphabetical order. Fortunately, I had a 10 1/2 hour drive to and from Mississippi last week...you can listen to a lot of music when you're on the road that long.

So, I'm on the way home, with my playlist somewhere in the 800s. As I crossed the Mississippi/Tennessee state line, at the very second that I passed the "Memphis City Limit" sign, the song "Walking In Memphis" started playing and I started laughing. I mean, out of 912 songs, what's the possibility of that happening? (If you're a probability and statistics person, you can figure it out if you'd like and let me know.) :-)

God has a great sense of humor--I'm glad he knows what makes me laugh...and I'm glad he chooses to randomly toss those little things in my path at times when I need a good laugh. I'd spent the first 3 hours of my drive home in tears, so I needed that.

My history is in the MAKING...

Ever have one of those spine-tingling, goosebump-producing moments where you know, beyond any shadow of a doubt, that God is PRESENT and, more than just present, speaking directly to you in a very personal way? I had one of those moments last night. Mind you, I don't believe that God lives in the goosebumps, but sometimes His presence is just so sudden and real and strong, it's like that ozonish SIZZLE in the air after a too-near lightning strike--you can hear Him, you can feel Him, you can almost taste Him...and you feel like your hair is standing on end and you might pass out from the way it takes your breath away.

I went to see Matthew West in concert last night. He's just a great, all-around nice guy. And I really like his music (obviously, or I wouldn't be plunking down money for a ticket). One of his recent songs is called "History" and it's one of my favorites--I really like the lyrics, because they talk about "the day that Love made history"...the love that broke the chains, gave you the chance to walk away from your past sins and be completely free.

When he started the set-up to this song last night, though, something happened. I was kind of distracted by the group of kids in front of me and was only half-listening until I started to feel that "sizzle" thing starting. I didn't hear an audible voice (still waiting for that!!), but I knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that God had just whispered "THIS is important and it's for you, so pay attention!" All I heard Matthew West say was "Your history is in the making." In the MAKING. Lightning bolt. I understood it perfectly.

My history, my entire history, my entire life, was there at the beginning--at the "making" of me. God knew the number of my days, the number of hairs on my head, the number of tears that would fall from my eyes...and the sound of my laughter. He knew where I would live, the choices I would make, and the lives that would entertwine with mine. My life--my "history"--was contained in that first single cell that was "me"...just like the tiny seed that holds everything needed to one day become an apple tree loaded with fruit, I've always held somewhere inside of me the inherent characteristics that God put in me to become what He planned for me to be. Me...my history...was there at my making. In my making. I lack for nothing. His plan is perfect.

God's impeccable attention to detail...

WHY am I still amazed when things like this happen? You'd think by now I would be accustomed to those so-called "coincidences" that seem to happen just when I need them. But maybe that's a really good thing...I kind of like being surprised by God now and then. So, here's the story...

I've recently re-connected with a very old and very dear friend with whom I went to high school (one of the perks of being on the *insert choking sound here* 25th class reunion committee). We were co-workers in my post-college factory-work days...until he left small-town America to pursue a military career. Of course, when you're re-connecting with someone with whom you've been out of touch for 20 years, you have to play a lot of "catch-up". And, for me, that means re-living some of the details of a ten-year chapter in my life that I consider, for the most part, to be closed. But, for someone who knew me 20 years ago to understand why I am the "who" I am today (a VERY different person), it's important to me that they see at least the bare bones of the process.

Looking at the process, however, always makes me start analyzing things again--asking those "what if?" questions for which I simply have NO answers. But I still ask them. And then I get upset with myself for not having the answers that I know aren't there. Go figure.

Someone told me a few weeks ago, half-apologetically, that he'd almost forgotten that I'd ever been married--honestly, I sometimes forget it myself. Well, maybe not "forget", but I don't dwell on it. It IS primarily a closed chapter...one of those "back-story" things that was fundamental in shaping my character into the person I am today, but not actively part of the story I'm now living. But once in awhile, it jumps to the forefront for whatever reason, and I deal with it and move on. So, it's jumped to the forefront, I'm asking the same old questions again, wondering what I might have done differently, and...fast-forward to tonight:

I'm cleaning out the desk I inherited from my Gram. Don't ask me why--there was no practical purpose for it, except I opened a drawer to shove some photos in and it was messy and I started a drawer-by-drawer reorganization. I pulled a handful of papers out of one of the drawers and found, at the very bottom, a folded-up sheet of notebook paper, covered in familiar writing. It was a letter from my step-daughter, written to her dad, right before he and I separated, begging him to "SEE" me (her words)...to recognize me for the amazing treasure I was and to stop putting other things (music, work, friends, tv, etc.) before our marriage. It was also a letter from God to me. Sometimes it's just good to hear Him say "see, I AM listening and here's your answer".

"Ouch!!"--Courtesy of Derek Webb

Thanks, Derek. I love getting sliced up. Especially by a sarcastic wordsmith like you. Nice to know that someone's portion of the spiritual gift of sarcasm is bigger than mine. ;-)

Whaddya think? Can people recognize Christ in us without (or in spite of!) it being plastered all over our chests in some corny rip-off of a candy bar or toothpaste or trendy store slogan? Can the testimony of our lives be contained in a box of Testa-Mints? God help us. God help me.


T-Shirts (What We Should Be Known For)
words and music by derek webb

they'll know us by the t-shirts that we wear
they'll know us by the way we point and stare
at anyone whose sin looks worse than ours
who cannot hide the scars of this curse that we all bare

they’ll know us by our picket lines and signs
they’ll know us by the pride we hide behind
like anyone on earth is living right
and isn’t that why Jesus died
not to make us think we’re right

chorus
when love, love, love
is what we should be known for
love, love, love
it’s the how and it’s the why
we live and breathe and we die

they’ll know us by reasons we divide
and how we can’t seem to unify
because we’ve gotta sing songs a certain style
or we’ll walk right down that aisle
and just leave ‘em all behind

they’ll know us by the billboards that we make
just turning God’s words to cheap clichés
says “what part of murder don’t you understand?”
but we hate our fellow man
and point a finger at his grave

they'll know us by the t-shirts that we wear
they'll know us by the way we point and stare
telling ‘em their sins are worse than ours
thinking we can hide our scars
beneath these t-shirts that we wear

A "moral" question...

So, say someone dear to you (a fellow believer) has done something "wrong"--either immoral, illegal, or just plain stupid...doesn't really matter--and they've asked you to bail them out of the situation. They've dug themselves in so deep that the only way they're going to get out of it is take one more step in the process of immorality/illegality/stupidity, with YOU as their facilitator. There's light at the end of the tunnel and you can see the hope of it, but it's a one-way tunnel and there's no back-tracking the way they came in.

You have the ability to do the "digging out" for them. What do you do? Does yet another "wrong" make a lot of "right"? If you choose to NOT do it, what kind of blood does that potentially put on your hands? Or does it put anything at all on your hands, since this was their mess to begin with? What does the whole "body of Christ" concept say here? If we are truly operating as a BODY, how much of this mess is MY mess as well? How much can we separate/compartmentalize--and potentially justify away--our responsibility to care for our "body"?

And where (if, indeed, there IS this point...and I believe there is somewhere) do you draw the line and say "no more"? How do you know when you just have to say "I'm sorry", close your eyes, shed your tears, and let them fall? I'm not sure how to know if you're walking close enough to God to hear his voice if he says "stop NOW". I guess I'm afraid of getting so sucked into someone else's mess that I'm not going to be able to discern God's voice because my compassion has clogged up my ears.

Thoughts???

Stranger in a not-so-strange land...

So, I'm back from my little hiatus. And wishing I was, as I said in my last post, warm. It was bad enough to leave Miami with temps in the 80s and fly into St. Louis where it was 21, but...I'm just cold. Heart-cold. Soul-cold.

I feel like Rip Van Winkle...somewhere, I must have fallen asleep and missed something crucial. The world has changed and I've awakened from a crazy dream in which life has been going on "normally", only to find that everything familiar is not...and everyone familiar is not. The thing is, I just don't know when I fell asleep. Last week? Last month? Last year?

It's weird, because in some ways, it was much easier for me to be a stranger in a strange place--it was okay for me to feel out of place in Miami Beach, because I WAS out of place, but it was a comfortable kind of being out-of-place...getting accustomed to new surroundings, gradually getting to know the sights and sounds and becoming familiar with people and places. It's NOT okay for me to be a stranger at home. But here I am.

I think I'd like to go back to the dream now, please. And I'll take some sunshine along with it.

Brief hiatus...

...I'll be back. When I get warm. :-)

Read the book...

...do NOT wait for the movie.

And be prepared for some serious butt-kicking, if you're sincerely seeking a way to TRULY live the "real" gospel today...if you're tired of church being "business" (BIG business at times)-as-usual.

The Irresistible Revolution by Shane Claiborne.

Run, do not walk. Buy it, borrow it, (please don't steal it, though--I'll loan you my copy if you're that desperate!) and READ it. And then maybe we can talk about what it means to live it...and how our attachments to our "stuff" (our idols? Ouch!) prevents us from functioning as God has always intended the Body of Christ to function.

Being sick sucks...

...and being sick on a Saturday especially sucks. Most of the people in my office have been sick this week and half of them ended up going home early one day or another. My day to get sick, of course, was Friday and I had so much to do, I simply refused to give up and leave early, even though I felt HORRIBLE. I stuck it out--and paid the price today. I have spent the entire day, minus a few times of getting up to refill my coffee cup, take some ibuprofen, go to the bathroom, and scrounge for food (I made wise use of my time and multi-tasked every time!), lying on the couch, barely able to breathe, head pounding, muscles aching--all that lovely stuff that comes with a really bad cold. All I can say is "thank God for NetFlix and my couch". And my mom and her potato soup. :-)

I'm feeling better. I usually get sick once a year and I'm claiming this as my "one time" and not feeling too disturbed over it. But...it really annoys me that I had to waste a Saturday, when I could have taken a sick day during the week and still had Saturday to enjoy. I had a list of things I needed to get done today (vacuum up cat hair, do my laundry, pay bills, etc.) and I just couldn't manage to do any of it. I DID, however, manage to catch up on my blog reading, so I guess there's always a silver lining, eh?!

And, of course, I'm irritated for feeling sorry for myself--if all I have is a little cold, I am truly blessed. I have friends right now who are facing serious stuff--some of them are dealing with life-threatening illnesses...and here I am griping about a snotty nose. I got some much-needed rest today and I'm just going to try to be grateful for that and forget about the feeling sorry for myself junk. A hot shower and fresh jammies have worked wonders...and my fever is gone, so it's been a good day!

"Lady in the Water"--a review of sorts...and other stuff

Well...I watched this movie tonight. I am a die-hard M. Night Shyamalan fan and somehow didn't really believe (no matter what I'd been told) that I should prepare to be disappointed by this film. Sometimes you should trust your friends. I was disappointed. Frankly, I hated the movie. The only thing that kept me watching to the end was the unrealized hope that somehow, somewhere, Mr. Shyamalan would redeem himself and show some brilliance. Bleahhhh.

However, I DID watch all the miscellaneous "special feature" stuff and was pleasantly surprised. The man truly IS a genius, even if I'm not catching the drift of his "geniusness" in this movie. Maybe it's just because I'm sick and there's too much...well, nasty stuff, clogging up my head right now for me to see past the surface into the murky waters (ha!) of this movie. I found it very interesting, however, to hear Shyamalan talk about the meaning behind the movie--again and again, he (and other cast/production members) emphasized that things (and people) are not always what they seem...you peg someone as what you think they are (their role in life, that is) and they turn out, in the end, to have a different role than what we expect.

That really caught my attention, because I've been thinking a lot lately about the life roles we (or even other people) put ourselves in...and the reasonings behind those reasons. Do we become what we think people expect us to become? Do we abandon the purposes for which we are created just because we're trying to "fit in" to society's expectations? Someone else's "script"? Someone told me yesterday that he's been living his entire life, trying to anticipate what other people expect him to be, so he can "become" that person when dealing with them, instead of being himself. He's tired of playing all the parts...and is just now getting a glimpse of who he "really" is--and his may not be a personality that will mesh with the masses, but if it's who God created him to be, what's more important?

And then I turn my eyes to myself. Am I being true to the heart God created in me? In some ways, yes, but in many ways, no. I wonder, almost on a daily basis, what's really important about staying in my job another 3 years just so I can have free insurance and a "full" (don't even get me started on that...) pension when I retire. The practical nature in me says it's "only" 3 years, but I'm not even guaranteed tomorrow.

I hope that, if God speaks specifically to me next week and tells me to quit my job and go to a far-flung (or even not so far-flung) mission field, I would hear and be obedient, but what if it's not even as "big" as that? What if one of my secrets is I would REALLY like to be an airline flight attendant? (Not so secret anymore, eh?!) What if that's truly part of the nature God created in me when He first breathed life and spirit in me? What if the servant's heart He put in me could best be served by handing out pretzels and Diet Coke on a plane flying over the fruited plains?

Hmmm.

Does Anybody Hear Her?

She is running
A hundred miles an hour in the wrong direction
She is trying
But the canyon's ever widening in the depths of her cold heart
So she sets out on another misadventure just to find
She's another two years older and she's three more steps behind

Does anybody hear her
Can anybody see
Or does anybody even know she's going down today
Under the shadow of our steeple
With all the lost and lonely people
Searching for the hope that's tucked away in you and me
Does anybody hear her

Can anybody see
She is yearning
For shelter and affection that she never found at home
She is searching
For a hero to ride in
To ride in and save the day
And in walks her prince charming and he knows just what to say
Momentary lapse of reason and she gives herself away
If judgment looms under every steeple
If lofty glances from lofty people
Can't see past her scarlet letter
And we never even met her

Does anybody hear her
Can anybody see
Or does anybody even know she's going down today
Under the shadow of our steeple
With all the lost and lonely people
Searching for the hope that's tucked away in you and me
Does anybody hear her

~~Mark Hall, Casting Crowns

Quoting...

Love without courage and wisdom is sentimentality, as with the ordinary church member. Courage without love and wisdom is foolhardiness, as with the ordinary soldier. Wisdom without love and courage is cowardice, as with the ordinary intellectual. But the one who has love, courage, and wisdom moves the world. ~~Ammon Hennacy

God, grant me all three. A double shot, please. I do NOT want to be ordinary.

Open for discussion--the subject of "possibility"...

I had an interesting conversation of sorts this morning. "Of sorts", because it started out with a text message, was relatively brief and consisted mostly of me listening. (Which is a good thing for me to do sometimes, but doesn't always lend itself too well to the whole "conversation" thing.)

The subject matter: Emily Dickinson's poem #657, which begins:

I dwell in Possibility--
A fairer House than Prose--
More numerous of Windows--
Superior--for Doors -

Lately, I've noticed that first line a lot--one of my friends uses it as her email signature, I have a plaque with the phrase printed on it and it crops up quite a bit in motivational context. I've enjoyed seeing my favorite poet get some widespread, modern-day exposure.

So...in a little poetry-quoting exchange this morning, I text-messaged that line to a fellow thinker-of-a-lot-of-things...and got a whole lot more than poetry in return. And I've been ruminating (I mean "pondering"--did you know it also means "chewing cud"?) on it all day. I should have been taking notes, because I've taken it apart and examined it so much that I can't put it back together in its original packaging, but...he basically told me that, if I choose to "dwell in possibility", I'm not moving purposefully in any direction--I'm living in a state of "anything can happen" (which is, in itself, entirely true), but if I sit there all my life waiting for the possibility of anything to happen, I'm...well, I'm missing it.

God tells me to "go", "be", "do", "tell", "work"...and those are all actions. (He also tells me to "wait", but my sense is that this is an action, too, not a position of lying down and doing nothing.) I have some fear that I HAVE "missed it" to some extent--that I have such huge hope that anything CAN happen that, in some areas of my life, I've focused more on the dreaming about possibilities and less on the actions required to see A dream become reality.

In all honesty, from my studying the commentaries of those who are more expert on Miss Emily's poems than I am, I think the general population has misinterpreted the meaning of this poem and appropriated one line out of context for its own use (because it DOES sound good!), so I'm not really asking for commentary about the poem itself, unless, of course, you feel particularly constrained to do so!

I AM interested in hearing some other viewpoints/interpretations on the whole "dwelling" thing. How do we move past the possibility into reality? Is that scary for anyone else? It is for me.

It'll do for now...

At least, it's not nauseating Pepto Pink! It's also not the wintry atmosphere I had envisioned, but maybe I need a bit of warmth, since I'm currently chilled to the bone and wishing for a warmer climate (Florida in 30 days--yay!!)

I WAS excited about the snow today...so excited, in fact, that I loudly proclaimed "It's SNOWING!!" to everyone in our lobby this morning...not that any of them really cared, I think, nor did they particularly care to see me excitedly jumping up and down, alternating between smiling over the snow and wincing when my poor, still-tender feet hit the ground, but I proclaimed, jumped, and winced nonetheless. Ah, well...both the snow and the pain were short-lived. As was the Pepto-Bismol Pink background (long and winding road, but I eventually made it back to the original subject matter).

I don't like pink...

...but I was tired of the old autumnal colors. Can't find anything really "wintry" that I like--actually don't really like ANY of these templates, but I don't know how to import a template from somewhere else. I found one awhile back that I LOVED and couldn't figure out how to make it work, so I just gave up and went with one of the boring ones on here.

Can someone rescue me from this sea of Pepto-Bismol-ish pink?

"I have a brain cloud"...

If you're a Joe Vs. the Volcano fan, you'll recognize that line. You should, anyway. It's the disease that Joe is "diagnosed" with that makes him throw all caution to the wind and go live his life with reckless abandon.

Unfortunately, that doesn't seem to be the type of brain cloud I'm blessed with at the moment. I honestly feel like there's a dense blanket of fog in my head and it's preventing me from thinking as "clearily" (one of my favorite recently-created words) as I should. I told a friend the other night that I feel like I'm right on the edge of truly "getting" something really big and life-changing, but I just can't quite seem to step into it. It's like it's waiting for me around a corner, but I haven't gotten to the corner yet. And, on top of that, I'm just tired. Emotionally drained, actually, which, in turn, physically drains me...and adds to that fog in my head.

I'm not big on making "resolutions" for the new year and, really, not even all that much in favor of the whole big "to do" about New Year's Eve--I mean, it's one minute's difference on the clock, for heaven's sake! Did everything REALLY change all that much, just because a minute passed? Is there really that much to celebrate because we're now in 2007, instead of 2006? Is the world all different now, somehow washed clean and brand-new? (I think I'm going somewhere with this, but it's mostly just stream-of-consciousness rambling...)

I suppose there's not one of us who couldn't use a "new start" now and then, of course. I ended 2006 in a stupid flurry of hurting people dear to me--not intentionally at all, but my insensitivity, self-defensiveness, lack of faith and just plain obtuseness put me in prime position for wounding those I love. And I did a good job of it. So, I'd say a "new start" is a good idea for me. Not because the calendar has a new number on it, but just because I need to quit acting stupid. Every minute is precious...and an opportunity for a new start. Thank God for His grace...immeasurable gift it is, indeed.

Maybe that will lift some of the cloud, eh?

Thanks, Sara Groves and Os Hillman...

I'm borrowing their words today...trying to find my own again. I want to go into the land of Judah, but I'm not finding the road. Anyone have a map?

Cave of Adullum--Sara Groves
Speak to me, speak to me in my cave of Adullam.
Reach to me, reach to me. No one cares for my soul.
I thought I saw your kingdom, but it's not going to happen
like I thought it would happen. .
Remind me, remind me of the vision you gave me.
Remind me, remind me what anointing oil is for.
I need to know you're near me.
I need to know you are holding me just as closely .
Chorus: as the day you took my life and gave me a vision,
as the day you poured the oil and gave me a dream.
I can't believe this is happening.
How does a shepherd become a king?


Coming Out of the Stronghold, by Os Hillman

..."Do not stay in the stronghold. Go into the land of Judah"... - 1 Samuel 22:5

David and his fighting men had been hiding in the cave of Adullam. He was fleeing Saul. Many of life's down-and-out had come and joined David's army. David was content to stay in the stronghold of safety. Then, God's prophet came to David and told him that he must leave the stronghold and go into the land of Judah.

When life beats down on us and we get to the place where we want to hide in a cave, God often places people around us who prod us into moving in the right direction. He does not want us to remain in the place of discouragement. He wants us to move into the land of "praise." Judah means "praise."

I recall when I went through a very difficult time. It seemed to drag on and on with no change until finally I wanted to retreat to a cave and forget pressing on. It was a great time of discouragement. A godly man came to me and said, "You must keep moving! There are too many who are depending on you in the Kingdom." I didn't totally understand what he meant at the time. Now I know he was saying that God is preparing each of us to be the vessel He wants to use in the life of another person, but we will never be that vessel if we give up and hide in our cave of discouragement. Not only must we keep moving, we must move into a new realm. Our attitude must move from discouragement to praise. It is when we move past discouragement to praise that we begin living above our problems. Make a decision today to go into the land of Judah.

Living this life (la vida loca?)....

Somehow (don't ask, I can't explain it), this song just seems to express the essence of all I'm feeling right now...there's much inside me that I just can't clearly enunciate (me, who rarely lacks for words--imagine that!!)--every time I open my mouth to talk about it, the words stumble all over themselves and make no sense even to me, so I'm sure they make no sense to anyone else.

Ready to spread my little wings...whether you see me or not.

Live This Life(Big Kenny/John Rich)

Met a man on the street last night
Said his name was Jesus
Met a man on the street last night
Thought he was crazy till I watched him heal a blind man
Watched him heal a blind man now I see yeah

I live this life until this life won't let me live here anymore
Then I will walk yes I will walk
With patience through that open door
I have no fears, angels follow me wherever I may go
I live this life until this life won't let me live here anymore

Met a girl in a chair with wheels
But no one else would see her
Met a girl in a chair with wheels
Everyone was so afraid
To even look down on her
And she just spread her little wings and flew away yeah

I live this life until this life won't let me live here anymore
Then I will walk yes I will walk
With patience through that open doorI have no fears,
angels follow me wherever I may go
I live this life until this life won't let me live here anymore
Live here anymore

Met a kid on a bridge last night
Contemplating freedom
Met a kid on a bridge last night
And he said
I'm tired of this maddening life
And I'm ready to go meet Jesus
I said he's a friend of mine
Met him just last night
And it's alright
Yeah it's all right
Yeah

I live this life until this life won't let me live here anymore
Then I will walk yes I will walk
With patience through that open door
I have no fears, angels follow me wherever I may go
I live this life until this life won't let me live here anymore
Live here anymore

Met a man on the street last night
Said his name was Jesus
Met a man on the street last night

Totally random exciting news!!

My mom just called to tell me that a Qdoba is opening in Evansville! In case you haven't figured it out yet, the news is a wonderful early Christmas present for me. The noodle place on Burkhardt (can't remember the real name...I call it "Oodles of Noodles") is closed and the owners have purchased a Qdoba franchise--not sure how soon it will be opening, but I'll be monitoring the progress VERY closely. :-)

We now return to your regularly scheduled programming...

Remembering their names...

I've just returned from my second trip this year to the Katrina-ravaged Gulfport, MS area. I'm still overwhelmed...not only by what I saw, but also by what God spoke to me this week. I'm still sorting it all out and writing it down always seems the best way for my "sorting process" to work, so...that's what I'm going to do. :-) It may be a bit muddled, because it's definitely NOT sorted yet!

I've recently become a fan of the new Battlestar Galactica series and one episode in particular had a profound effect on me--one of the characters made a statement early in the episode about not being able to remember the names of all their fallen fighter pilots and not really thinking it was important because they were gone, but at the end, she stands and honors their memory by reciting their names. That spoke strongly to me, because I had just recently wandered around a VERY old cemetery, looking at the names of long-dead relatives and strangers, and had a conversation about who would remember me...and how I would be remembered when all that remained of my earthly life was nothing more than a name on a tombstone.

The people I met this week aren't just "Katrina survivors" or "homeless men" or "FEMA trailer park residents" or "God's Katrina Kitchen volunteers"--they are individuals, fearfully and wonderfully made, loved and known by the same God who made, loves and knows me. They have faces and lives and stories that are, for the most part, forgotten by the media and the ignorant who don't have a clue about the magnitude of destruction and believe that everyone's gone back to "normal" life (BIG "issue" with me that you'll probably hear more about later, but that's not the story for today). I want to remember those names. And their stories.

Neil: He came to Gulfport from Florida because he heard there were construction jobs paying good money. He worked for a contractor for a week, sleeping on the guy's couch because he had nowhere else to go. The contractor couldn't/wouldn't pay him for the work he'd done and Neil refused to continue to work without being paid, so consequently, he no longer had a place to stay. Someone directed him to God's Katrina Kitchen on Wednesday...he hadn't eaten for two days. I fed him lunch. And then dinner. And he stayed for our group's worship service that night. He wanted to work as a volunteer for GKK for a place to stay and hot meals. He owns a bicycle, the clothes he's wearing, and carries a garbage bag of personal items. He sleeps in a deep ditch near GKK. (The nighttime temperatures were around 20-30 degrees each night we were there, btw.) He is tired and discouraged and wonders where God is in all that's happened to him.

Terry: Originally from Michigan, he came to Mississippi from Colorado, where he sold souvenir rocks mounted on wooden plaques (he gave me two of them because I was his friend). He's staying with friends in an apartment near GKK and got a job Friday doing concrete work. He had asked me earlier in the week to ask God to help him find a job, because he thought God probably listened to me more than He listened to him.

Kevin: He lives in Pass Christian and was a part-time volunteer at GKK before the move to Gulfport. I met him Wednesday--he told me that he had just ridden his bike from about 20 minutes west of Pass Christian (at least ten miles) and was looking for a job. When he came in Friday, he had gotten a job at a Subway down the street. He also told me that he had missed breakfast that morning because his water (he lives in a FEMA trailer) had frozen--his space heater doesn't produce enough heat to keep the water pipes from freezing when the temperature drops into the 20s. He asked me if I liked poetry and produced a notebook of poems he had written--one was entitled "B-4" and was a list of things that had happened, both throughout the Bible and in his own personal life--ie, "before Katrina hit Pass Christian, etc..." and the last line of each stanza was "a way had already been made". Powerful stuff. His faith has carried him through some very rough times.

Otis: All I know of Otis is his name...his mental faculties are lacking so much that it was hard to get more than a few sensible words at a time out of him. He brought me a Bible one day, opened to the book of Jeremiah and asked me to read it to him. When I was finished, he hugged me and kissed me on the cheek. He wanders in and out most of the day, talking to whomever will give him a few minutes, smiling at everyone, chattering to himself.

Steve: He's a cross-carrier...one of Arthur Blessit's "disciples", from California. He carries a 12' X 6' wooden cross on his shoulder, all across the country. When he came in Tuesday, he hadn't eaten for two days--some of our volunteers found him and brought him in for lunch. He came back that night for our worship service and I had the opportunity to quiz him--he's on a ten-year "mission" to tell people about Jesus by carrying the cross along highways and interstates and stopping to speak whenever someone gives him an opening.

Jeff: Born in Bossier City, he moved to Florida with his mom, then to Knoxville, then back to Florida, then to Gulfport to do construction work. I heard his entire life story as I waited in line for breakfast Thursday morning. He told me that he had been working construction in Gulfport, making good money, but blowing it all on drinking and drugs...knowing all the time that he wasn't living the way God would want him to live. He walked into GKK for lunch one day, felt God's presence and knew that he belonged there. He left the good-paying construction job, moved into one of the GKK bunkhouses and went to work as an unpaid volunteer on one of the work teams, started going to a 12-step recovery program, has been clean and sober almost 2 months and positively RADIATES Jesus all over the place.

I won't forget.