idontbelieveingrammar

A few things I strongly dislike. -Pix-Os. Those tiny little round balls that are supposed to magically stick together when you add water. But. so far all they have done is end up all over my floor. -The fact that the last time I got a pedicure, the lady who was working on my feet asked if I had cut my own toenails last time. Laughed loudly when I confirmed her suspicions and then said something to the girl next to her in Vietnamese. -That it is getting annoyingly difficult to stay up past 10:00 o’clock anymore. -That the next week’s forecast all involve triple digits. -That I will inevitably leave a bag on that little round bag holder and Wal Mart. And it will be the bag that had the most important item I came for in it. …you get the idea. But. one thing I really hate is small talk. And I am really social and outgoing and completely extroverted, but on lots of days I’d rather have a root canal with no novocaine than have to endure much of it. I’d rather break out the vacuum t...

I’ve been away for a few days. I went to the Storyline conference by Donald Miller… And it was uh-mazing. I’m sure I’ll be writing about it a lot over the next few weeks. Or at least things he/we talked about. But tonight, I mostly just need sleep and to process all that good stuff I am chewing on. So for now, Meet Ryan from Cleveland. I met him in Portland, but not at the conference. Sunday night the conference went until nine. And afterwards we were invited to a special movie test run from an amazing director that Milller interviewed. He rented out some cool theatres in downtown Portland…and I couldn’t wait to see the movie. Except it was not at all close to my hotel. And it would finish after 11:30 pm. And I wasn’t 100% sure I could even stay awake that long ( 2 hour time difference not in my favor). But I was not ok with walking over a mile in a strange city, when I wasn’t sure where I was going, close to midnight. So I relucatnantly decided to pass. I hate missin...

I just got home from church. Well, not really church exactly. But it felt like it in the best kinds of ways. No one was wearing there Sunday bests. Actually most people were wearing everything they owned. They smelled bad. There was coffee and cigarettes. No one was pretending. And everyone was hungry. As I walked into Unity Park, A park that serves as a refuge to the homeless residents of downtown Fort Worth, A homeless man named Tim walked up to me and asked me to read what he had written the night before. The opening prayer. It was scribbled on the back of his doctor’s appt to the free clinic. A modern day psalm that was truly better than anything I have ever posted on here. There were warm greetings and smiles and shy glances. The sacrament was watermelon and ice water. And everyone was welcome to the table. The worship was being played next to me by a man in uncomfortable looking robes. A modern day monk. With a guitar. Singing his praises, and I couldn’t help but join in. The mes...

I hand him his ice cold drink and smile and look him in the eye. Even though I don’t even know his name. He tells me that I’m doing a good thing. He has seen me down here most days this week. Dragging my blue cooler along behind me full of water and juice and sodas. Handing them out freely to the men and women melting into the sidewalks down on East Lancaster Street. Some are napping. Some are talking in groups. Some are smoking and some are doing things I don’t even want to know about. It usually only takes me minutes to empty my cooler. I’m not really sure how to respond to my new friend. Because I want to do something good I suppose. I want to at least do something. Even though 95% of the time I am content sitting on the couch. Reading. Blogging. Checking facebook. So I just kind of stand there staring into his face for a minute. And he repeats it. “You are doing a good thing here. You are a good person.” And I tell him, “No, I’m really not.” No one really is. As a matter of fact I’...

On the second Saturday of every month a handful of people from my church go here. I always intend to go with them. And I have a time or two (another post from another time here ). But usually I just sleep in or go get coffee with a friend or jet off to a soccer game or birthday party. But this Saturday. I went. The group serves homeless people lunch in a park next to a large homeless shelter (the one in Same Kind of Different Than Me…if you’ve read the book) and the park is always full of "residents" as we are supposed to call them. On the way to church I was feeling warm gooey good from doing something that I know God calls us to do. For doing something that I am passionate about, even though I don’t act on it near as often as I’d like. And I couldn’t wait for the drive home where I’d feel even better about myself. After cooking and loading up we talked a little safety and had a short devotional. It was the obvious verse. The one about the least of these. " For I was hu...