Breakfast Product in a Biscuit

I forgot to eat breakfast today. It was the first PLC (profesisonal learning community), or as I like to call it, Pathetic Losers Club, of the year. We meet as a team at 8 every Wednesday from now until eternity, and it being the first one threw of my morning routine and I left the house with only my lunch in tow. Realizing this halfway to school caused me to pull into a Macdons to get some kind of food to tide me over until lunch. I went inside, the drive through line was insanely long, and ordered a breakfast product in a biscuit and coffee. While I was waiting for my breakfast product in a biscuit, I observed the caliber of society that ascends upon a Macdons near my school in the wee hours of the morning. There were lots of men getting their morning coffee, and them being there seemed normal or fitting almost. There were some older people taking their time eating their finely crafted cuisine, and they as well were not out of place.

And then I saw them.

The family.

Squished

into

a

booth.

Stuffing their faces...and I (ashamedly) thought to myself "and the fat get fatter."

So much for not judging today.

The Chair

On the corner of a street near my school there is a little yellow house. This little yellow house has a porch. On the porch there is a simple wooden kitchen chair. Most mornings there is a man on the chair. He looks quite old, somewhat frail and from my distant observation he's lived a good life. He's African American and he always is wearing coveralls. When I pass him on my way from Starbucks to school he waves. I wave back.

I am so intrigued by this man. I want to know his story. I want to take a black and white picture of him sitting on his chair on his porch. I want to sit down with a glass of iced tea and watch the world go by from his chair on the porch, I want to learn from him, to see what he has to share with the world and leave with us once he's called home. I probably never will, and that's okay. I am busy collecting ideas for my someday to be written children's book, and this man and his porch just might be it.

Street Drummers

I deleted the video I took of these guys, so I am so glad I found this. They're awesome!

Contagious

Yesterday was the first day of school, which will be reserved for a future post. Some wonderful friends (Vanessa and Grant) here in Wichita invited me over for dinner, so I was happy to oblige. Not having to cook is always a great plan, but don't worry, they are coming over on Saturday to have a fiesta! Anyway, all that is beside the point. After dinner we went to Barnes and Noble to meet some more friends (Luke and Laurel and their foreign exchange student Chris) so that Laurel, Van and I could research Bible studies.

The boys got coffee while we perused the Christian inspiration section, and finally narrowing down some choices we joined the boys in the Starbucks. The next two hours were filled with laughter, teaching Chris to pop straws and all kinds of other noisy activities. At one point I said that we were probably being too loud and might get kicked out. A few minutes later, the girl who was working the counter behind Starbucks came over and had cheesecake samples, which we were happy to take off her hands. As she was standing there she said to us how much she appreciated our laughter. She said that she could tell we were having a great time and that our laughter had made her bad day better.

This stuck with me for some reason. We weren't doing anything out of the ordinary for us, really for me I was just spending time with people who I feel like I am truly in community with, accountable to and just who I can be myself around. Being the "unmarried" of the group has never made me feel uncomfortable or awkward. I can have great conversations with Luke or Grant as well with Van and Laurel. I am so thankful for these friends and their ability to be transparent, and to let me be transparent with them. And I am thankful that we laugh together, lots, and that on one random Thursday night, our laughter brought a smile to another person's face.

Better Left Unsaid

The world is too fragile for people to be untrue. There's too much at stake and life's too short for lies. And you're the worst kind of person in the world because you wasted my heart.