Week 7 - Coffee

Week 7 - Coffee

My appreciation for coffee didn't start until after my induction into the National Weather Service...and shift work. I knew I was in for a caffeinated life when, on my first day at work, they asked me if I was a cold caffeine or hot caffeine drinker. Not water, not fruit juice, just a very general “what temperature do you take your caffeine?"

I'd always enjoyed the smell of coffee but could never get past the bitter taste. I masked the bitterness with hot chocolate mix, then moved on the cream and sugar, then got away with just cream. I could never make it past that to the mythical "black as night" coffee. You know, the kind spoke of in hushed whispers by the cooler or drunk by lifeless coworkers on midnight shifts. Turns out there's a reason it was bitter. It wasn't made correctly.

Then it happened. My friend David moved in. Not only did my productivity tank on Saturday mornings (he's really good conversation), but I was shown how coffee is supposed to be made. That morning I drank black coffee. I tasted a little bitterness, then it passed, making way for the flood of flavors that quickly followed. It was rich and full, sparking memories of mornings with my grandparents, and rainy afternoons.  I've been drinking it that way ever since.

Week 6 - 34

Week 6 - 34

I turned 34 today. If I’m honest, I never thought I’d make it this far. If I were really honest, I didn’t think I would make it to 14, let alone 34. I certainly don’t feel my age. No, I feel closer to 64. Everything hurts and I’m dying. Yet here I am, pushing on.

During my short time on this earth, so far, I’ve always felt behind the curve. Have you ever felt that way? Like I’m trying to build a skyscraper and I’ve only got the blueprints for the basement and the lobby...and the bathrooms are missing. No matter how many self-help books I read or YouTube tutorials I watch, I'm in this perpetual mode of waiting for the next aha moment when everything falls into place. In fact, my life can be marked by distinct moments when, as if a higher power was involved, someone turned a light on and I suddenly understood. Here are a few of those moments when God flipped the switch and gave me new understanding. (If you're looking for a short blog entry you can stop here. Thanks for popping in. I really do appreciate it.)

The first light came on at Austin Community College when I realized I wasn’t as amazing as I thought I was.

The second came after a short mission trip to Bolivar Penisula to clean up after Hurricane Ike. My friend Starla mentioned that I seemed different, happier. I was. God had turned on the light of my faith, which produced good works.

The third and one of the brightest came in Austin at an event called Impact. A 4-day training by Reinvent Ministries. I metaphorically ripped off the bandage that covered my wounds. I scrubbed them clean, and those wounds began to heal in ways I’d never known before. The pain of that process was rough, but like everything in life, the higher the cost the greater the reward. There were certainly people there who decided not to pay the same price I did, and they left with less reward and probably kept some of there wounds. I found my voice during those 4 days. I learned I had worth, and how my actions in life affect those around me. This was one of the biggest lights.

The fourth light, and the last so far, came while I was in Jasper, Alberta. I was leaning against the railing of a deck that overlooked a valley to the east. The imposing and majestic mountains stretched for miles, while thin clouds cascaded down around them. It was in that moment that I thought to myself, I miss San Angelo. It had become my home. I wasn't missing the extreme heat of the summers, or the water, which has its own flavor, but those people who had become my community. That has been my guiding light thus far, the importance, no the necessity of being in a community. Being known.

I feel this will be a great year! Thanks for sticking with me. This was a long one.

Week 5 - Weeds

Week 5 - Weeds

Weeds, they’re everywhere in West Texas. Likely due to the relentless wind. It carries the seeds here and there and the next thing you know the hard work you put into your yard has simply produced a petri dish for these water sucking specimens of frustration. What an amazing analogy for life though, am I right? The weeds are here to stay people, at least until the good Lord returns. They’ll get in your way, they’ll choke out things that are beautiful and generally make a nuisance of themselves. Yet, when the light of the sun shines through them, beauty can still be found.

This photo was taken, believe it or not, on purpose. I drove out to this area where I knew these weeds were growing and waited for that golden light. The photo turned out okay, and so will you. Don’t worry so much about the weeds, look for the light.