What’s the frequency?

I spent this past weekend in Greenville with my fiancé. The weekend was a reconnecting of sorts with old roommates, college friends, Church family, etc. I stayed the nights in my old dorm room. An aside here would be that during my college years my dorm room was a place of conversation, my old roommate would say this is because we had a loveseat in our room; however, perhaps there is more to E6 than a small sofa with only room for one as clothes, books, and whatever else passed through our hands took up residence where another might “take a load off.” After dinner with my old roommate and his girlfriend, a crash course in breaking and entering, and saying goodnight to Cortney I returned, quilt and pillow in hand, to my old room. After no more than seconds of being in the room (which was empty at the time) two guys clad in t-shirts and baseball caps entered with a “staying the night?”
“Yes,” I replied as the nostalgic breeze blew through my college days.
“Do you know Matt or something?” was the question that interrupted the breeze and returned my attention to the conversation at hand.
“Yes, Matt is my old suitemate. I used to live in this room.”
With these words the visitors sat down (there is no longer a loveseat in the room). Looking for a place to sit myself I noticed a light coming from a room across the hall, this light caught my eye due to the lobby being unlit at the time. The conversation with the two visitors lasted for about 15 minutes, most of which was me asking questions and listening to responses. The conversation ended with handshakes and a hearty “maybe we’ll see you around,” but this was not before a third visitor arrived emerging from the room across the hall, possibly drawn over by the sound of voices. The third visitor looked older than the first two and possessed a certain calm. He sat in a vacant desk chair and listened to my farewell with the two younger visitors. To be honest I was ready for bed and not in the mood for another conversation. Somewhat distracted by going through my bag I introduced myself and asked the new visitor his name.
“I’m Kenneth, it is nice to meet you” was the smiling reply.
“What’s your major?” I asked trying to hurry the conversation along.
“Sports management,” the gentle visitor said.
He proceeded to tell me that he wanted to be an equipment manager when he finished school because he thought is was a good “avenue” to share Christ. Our conversation lasted close to an hour with Kenneth providing a prayer and a brotherly embrace before he shuffled off across the unlit lobby to his room. After brushing my teeth I collapsed into bed and thought a moment about this second visitor.
“The avenues of grace have many streets.” I thought to myself as I envisioned the gentle visitor’s mannerisms.
“Jesus, take me to sunrise from indigo.”

Mr. Wizard

During a conversation last week with a close friend I expressed a new discovery, which to some will appear meaningless and to others will make no sense whatsoever. The discovery is that there is something magical in asking questions. At this point in the post I suppose the excitement has taken a hit and will never recover… I am okay with that. When I use the term “magical” I am not referring to hocus pocus, rabbit out of the hat stuff, rather, magical meaning- having seemingly supernatural qualities or powers. For those still struggling with the choice of word, let me say it this way, when one is seeking their joy in the joy of another and appraising and contemplating both the spoken word and the unspoken in a debt of love…God does something in the heart of the questioner that evokes the correct sentence structure to open corridors of the heart of the one being questioned. Perhaps it has happened more; however, I have only been aware that it was happening a few times. Returning to my original term, Jesus was a wizard.

Understanding Silence

Have you ever found yourself in an awkward conversation? Perhaps an awkward dinner conversation with new people or people that are not new, but seem new because you haven’t seen them in years. I found myself in just such a situation. My question is this: why all the awkwardness? Why was I struggling for new words to dampen the silence? Could it be a lack of vulnerability that produces the rigid conversation? Perhaps with people we know the silence is not awkward, in fact, it can be a welcomed moment where the people engaged in the communication enjoy the nearness of the company or the communicator. And maybe, just maybe, the nearness in those moments is more satisfying than the spoken word or anything else.

New Links

I recently added to the “Link” section of my blog. This type of addition is nothing new; in fact, I usually change old things and add new ones every time I post. I pause this time to intentionally draw you the reader to the new “Links”, in hope that you might frequent the sites. The reason you might ask? As one author would say, “We have scarcely begun to see all of God that the Scriptures give us to see, and what we have not yet seen is exceedingly glorious.” I commend the sites to you in hope that we together might use them to chase after that, which is exceedingly glorious. Let me know what you think.