Black Coffee

I remember being younger and watching the way my dad drank coffee; Black. Some mornings I would be up early enough to get some coffee myself but I would never dare to try drinking it the way that he did. I recognized the kind of man he is by the way he drinks his coffee. (I know it sounds silly.) My dad's a very strong person, especially in my eyes I learned that from watching him drink his morning coffee. The bitter taste of the black coffee doesn't even phase him, didn't phase him, and probably never will.
I also remember thinking to myself, way back then, that I would never be able to drink coffee the same way that he does. He was this big strong man and I was just a puny little shrimp kid. I needed cream and sugar. Lots of sugar.
As I write this, I'm on my second giant mug of black coffee.

Lets say that the coffee is our relationship with God. Depending on how tired you are (in life, through trials) your amount of coffee, and the way you drink it can change. The less trials you have, the less tired you are and you have your coffee with cream and sugar. Your faith exists but it isn't always the way you stay awake at work.
Now, there are trials. The sleep goes, and staying awake becomes the hardest thing you do everyday. If you choose correctly, you choose to strengthen your relationship with God. A.k.a. Black coffee.

It may seem like somewhat of a stretch, but that's what I am thinking of as I sit here drinking my black coffee, journaling and reading my bible.

I like it this way.

Sore Thumb

You have probably all heard the saying "stick out like a sore thumb." If not, then now you have. Since I was younger I always thought there was something weird about me. Maybe not weird, but "different."
First, I had HUGE glasses growing up. So, I was classified as pretty nerdy. Then I had really poofy hair to go along with the glasses, and I became nerdy and geeky. After that came the truth that I was a HOMESCHOOLER - yeah, so my nerdy/geeky level got bumped up about ten notches, and then I was weird also. Next came the fact that I was a dancer; you wouldn't think that weird now, but I got teased relentlessly for it when I was younger.
All this goes to say part of me has always felt like "I do not belong here."
When I was eight years old I wanted to be a missionary and a dancer. Here I am, well on my way to those two things. How did I know it would happen? I was eight...

This whole "feeling out of place thing" has been around forever. I always thought it was because of the people who picked on me in one place, or the next. Now I realize it as a completely different situation.
I don't want any of what is here, and there is nothing wrong with what's here, but it doesn't belong to me.
I don't want a cookie cutter house, I don't want a Saturday afternoon routine, and I don't want to be stuck in one place right now.

I fell in love with a sanctuary lit by 60 watt light bulbs, with an acoustic guitar, and an audience for a choir. So I asked myself in church today "what am I doing here?"
This place has these standards of what is materialistically appropriate, yet we speak about wanting to "go back to nature."
Aren't the stars more beautiful than a disco ball? Isn't a sunrise more beautiful than the coffee mug in your hand at noon? All of these things were given to us, freely and we put it away even for church service.

This is the "weird" stuff that I thought was just me being weird. I'm an adventurer, explorer.. world changer if you dare to call it that. And, I do not belong in the middle of a concrete man-made world. I'm blessed to have acknowledged my 'weirdness' as what it really is now, instead of 50 years from now. I can't wait to really live it out; where ever it shall be!

Dievs ir labs! Ja? ;)

Laughter

So I know any of my friends anywhere will understand the humor in the story. Mostly because these people know what it's like when I really start laughing.
Yesterday I wanted an adventure. I thought, if I could have them in Latvia with a little searching I could have them here too. So that's what I did... I found an adventure.

That adventure was time with my little brother Kenneth...
We went to eat at a Mexican food restaurant here in town; if you've ever eaten with my brother you will know that he harasses the poor server relentlessly. (It's a good thing he's funny) After our humorous dining I needed to run to the store to buy some supplies for art. I'm there on the floor of this office depot and giggling at some stupid joke my brother made. When he walks over all nonchalant and farts right in my face.

Typical. As stupid as it sounds I missed this part of my relationships. Those stupid little things my brothers and I do are how we tell each other "hey, I think I love you and I missed you while you were gone." I know.... strange.

So there I am, rolling on the floor of this store, and we find... DUN DUN DUN! A call bell.



My twirpy little brother and I then proceeded to drive around town ringing our bells... We don't know why, and it was probably really stupid. But it doesn't matter. Because that's how we build our relationship with each other.
How do you build yours?
Is it stupid? Is it serious? Is it light? Joyful? Heavy?

How you build your relationships, affects the relationship. Wether or not you choose to build a relationship with someone.
Like I heard in church this Sunday, relationships affect you, and you affect others in your relationship.
So be joyful, wise, encouraging and sincere.
God will work through you.