I woke up a little late this morning. I’ve been a bit sniffly yesterday and today… I definitely should be sleeping right now instead of blogging. I started my day off at Starbucks for about an hour and a half. I ordered a frappacinno… which I haven’t had in a long time. I’ve been drinking straight drip coffee, so the frap hit the spot. I sat down, opened up my computer and realized that I could get free wireless internet if I signed on a different signal other than T Mobile. So I spent the next hour making phone calls, sipping the frap, and sending emails. Lord, I hope I don’t ever get to be that typical businessman that comes into starbucks with his cell phone clip and everything, but I’m slowly getting there.
After a lunch appointment, I spent the afternoon tickling away at the keys of my laptop in my office getting some thoughts down for this weekend’s service. The topic is “relativism,” although I dare not use that word with high school students. I’m talking through a few hypothetical scenarios of conversations they might have, and helping them to think through the implications of such statements as “that might be true for you, but not for me.”
Coincidentally, tonight I watched a movie called “Gone Baby Gone,” with Casey Affleck, Ed Harris, and Morgan Freeman. It’s been awhile since I’ve seen a movie where a character had to make such a tough moral choice… got my wheels turning about moral relativism, and how what one person thinks is right might be wrong in the eyes of the guy next to him. Anyways…
I look pretty much the same as I did last night… really tired, but not ready to sleep yet. My sinus’ are oozy, my brain is spinning, and my heart is anxious for things I can’t even describe. I like the dimness of my ikea lamp and the leopard skin couch that was donated to me and the silence of my apartment all around save the whir of the refridgerator. I look to my left, over my shoulder, and beyond me is the world: “souls and the bodies that hold them,” people and the cities that hold them, and the states and countries that hold them. I think to myself briefly about what tomorrow might bring, at work, at Starbucks, in the parking lot, and while I’m at it, I consider also what a hundred years will bring. I wonder why God created time the way it is… with the rising and the setting sun that are a parable to remind me that my life, with all my striving and thinking and doing, has its season. All I can do is sit on my couch and wonder as the refridgerator whirs and the DVD player still spins because I haven’t shut it off yet.
In this place, there is peace. What the heck more could I ask for?