Tuesday, February 9, 2016

Dear Diary...

The flavor of the blog is changing for a bit.  I feel most pressed to share my heart in all of its rawness.  God is working in my life, and He keeps whispering..."write it, Leah." I do not really even know how it should look -or what it should say.  The only thing I know to do is to write it out as if in my personal journal.  It feels a little scary, a little too close.  But, it seems this is the risk of faith God is asking me to do.  When He presses...I write.

Coffee and Dirty Pants  ~ Feb. 9, 2016

I sat in the back corner of a coffee shop today because I had thirty extra minutes of a babysitter watching my children after I taught this afternoon.  I wanted to enjoy a strong espresso and a book I have been devouring.  While I waited for my name to be called, a man walked in wearing very dirty pants.  His unbrushed silver hair and clinking keys got my attention right away.  He looked quite out of place.  He stood somewhat in line reading a paper.  He wasn't exactly in line.  He was at the pickup counter, but he had not ordered.  He stood there for so long.  I took my drink and my book and went to the warmest corner in the shop.  I jumped right into the paragraphs, but I couldn't keep from peeking up at Mr. Dirty Pants.  Was he homeless?  Was he just getting warm?  Was he going to order coffee?  Does he not know where to get in line? Is he safe?  Why does nobody seem to even notice him but  me?  Why am I so concerned about this stranger?

Three chapters later, he was still in the exact same spot.  My heart raced a little.  God, are you trying to tell me something?  Am I supposed to talk to him?  What in the world am I supposed to say?  Should I buy him coffee?  A pastry?  Unsure, I went back to reading.  The next glance, he had put the paper back in the paper bin, but was standing back in the same location.  I was mesmerized by this peculiar man.  Why?  Why do I always notice people that others are either totally ignoring, or simply do not see?  I went back to my book and whispered prayers asking God if I should speak to this man.  Yes... get up and buy the man a coffee.  

I put the book down and was about to walk to the counter and he was instantly gone.  I looked everywhere.  He was gone.  As unnoticed as his appearance was to everyone, so was his departure. Only this time, even I didn't see him.  

I felt hollow.  Disappointed that I might have missed an opportunity to share coffee and hear his story, I suddenly couldn't read anymore.  What good is seeing the unseen if I don't do anything about it? What good is being moved by God's grace if I don't move on it?  

Jesus, you have tendered my heart to those around me.  Can you give me bravery, too?  Hesitation is disobedience.  I know this...in my deepest soul moment, I know this.  I think of you and the encounters you sought out and left for me to read about in your word.  People that were more peculiar than a dirty man in a shiny coffee shop fill the pages of your gospel teaching us that your ways are not our own.  I am sorry.  I am sorry I missed a moment to see you.  I am sorry I missed a moment to know this stranger.  I am sorry I missed an opportunity to have a little faith.  Please, keep sending me encounters.  Don't allow me to become like so many others that choose to look away.  I did today.  I looked away.  For three chapters, I looked away.  I know I have nothing to offer anyone.  Coffee is nothing.  But I have your love, and that is everything.  


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