snapshots of a social life

Allosaurus, dude. (just because I can)

Somehow I've found the time to make friendships a priority in the midst of my chaotic schedule. These moments of companionship, however short, help keep me sane.

Precisely a week ago Kyle and I met up at the cafe to talk coffee and catch up. He's opening a coffee shop in northeast Ohio, wanted to refresh his knowledge on some things. After we talked coffee we went across the street to Rock Bottom; I had a beer and he had a root beer (he's quite the aficionado), and we talked Jesus, ministry, and friendship. The last time I'd seen him was his marriage, I do believe, and I instantly remembered why we've had such a good friendship. We can be open and honest with one another, we don't have to filter all our thoughts through a "Christian filter" (does that make any sense?), and we can dream together. I love the idea of Mandy and I joining him and his wife to do ministry in Australia in the coming years. I wouldn't be mad if God took us in that direction.

This past Monday Blake, Traci, Ams and I had a little "taco night", and then Blake and I set our teeth against one another in Goldeneye for the Wii. At one point I had 19 kills and he had one. For some reason I easily find my way around those sorts of games. "Too bad Birds of Steel isn't two-player!" I exclaimed. No one but me is upset it isn't. After reconnecting with Blake and Traci, I drove five minutes down the road and got to hang out with Tyler and his fiance Julia for a little bit. I left at sunset, though, just in time to miss Tyler's Indian dances on the "naked farm," whatever that means. It's a farm I'd like to be a part of, but only with certain company.

Ams and I have gotten to see quite a bit of each other lately, since she's been letting me crash in her guest bedroom when the weather's unbearably warm. I, for one, will miss winter, if only because my Hobbit Hole lacks AC. Ams and I don't really do anything exciting: we watch TV, share a few words or stories, laugh a little bit, and then go to bed. Our relationship doesn't need excitement to make it intimate; we have that shared communion that's alive and flourishing in silence as well as activity. I appreciate that about us.

Pat D. and I did dinner yesterday afternoon at Zola's Pub & Grill in Covington. We had a few beers and dined on red meat, talked about faith, friendship, and what life has in store down the road. This week has been a little somber for both of us. Debbie, mother to our high school bffs, passed away last weekend. Her funeral was Wednesday, and I was able to show up for a little bit between shifts at Tazza Mia and Walk of Joy. It was good seeing Chris and Lee, Hank and Ashlie, and a handful of others who I haven't seen since my pre-college days. It's awful circumstances to bring people back together, if only for a few moments, but Debbie would have liked that. 

Pat D. and I talked a lot about her, our memories of her: how she loved everyone so sacrificially, how even on her deathbed her primary interest was serving other people. As her death neared, she evangelized to her husband Don, and when he became a Christian, she died within the hour, content. Hers was a noble death, and one to be envied, though it struck her down at such a young age (she was only 50). I'm reminded of a C.S. Lewis quote: "Remember that all worlds draw to an end and that noble death is a treasure which no one is too poor to buy." I'm terrified of death, but not what lies on the other side. Chris' faith is strong, and he gripped my hand with strength, and I could see the grief etched over his face, but it was a grief that knows the distance is temporary, that there will be a joyful reunion. "She's in paradise now," he said, and the way he said it, you knew it wasn't a pithy cliche. He knew it, and found strength in it. 1 Thessalonians 4.13-18 is only trite cliche if you don't believe in it.

Brothers and sisters, we want you to be fully informed about those who have fallen asleep in death so that you will not be overwhelmed with grief like those who live outside the true hope. Here's what we believe: since Jesus died and rose again, in the same way, God will bring with Jesus all who have died through him. For we can say all this to you confidently because it is the word of the Lord: we who are still alive when the Lord comes will not precede those who have fallen asleep in death. On that day, with a command that thunders into the world, with a voice of a chief heavenly messenger, and with a blast of God's trumpet, the Lord Himself will descend from heaven; and all those who died in the Anointed One, our Liberating King, will rise from the dead first. Then we who are alive will be snatched up together with them into the clouds to meet the Lord in the air. This is how we, the resurrected and the living, will be with Him forever. So comfort one another with this hope, and encourage one another with these words.

 (1 Thess 4.13-19, The Voice)