Lilies and Sparrows

As I type this, I am sitting on the sidewalk in front of "A.J. Java" a local cafe here in Portland. It is on the corner of 42nd Ave and Prescott, just up the street from my apartment. Every fifteen minutes or so, the Number 75 bus goes past, heading South on 42nd, toward the Hollywood Transit Center. Likewise, its counterpart appears shortly after, heading North toward St. Johns.

It is warm outside tonight, with slight cloud cover, and the streetlights obscure much of my view of the heavens. Every so often, a police cruiser will fly past. Of course, the Portland Police are above traffic laws, though they enforce them. If the light at my intersection is red, the cruiser will flash his cherry lights, and floor it through. If it is green, he continues on without a thought.

I wonder if I am breaking the law right now? My purpose for sitting here on the sidewalk, my back slouched against a tall planter box, is to steal the wifi from the cafe. It is "free" wifi, meaning that paying customers may use it. I justify my use tonight by the $3.35 iced mocha I bought earlier (when the wifi was down) and the change from a five that I tipped the barista. I believe I am owed my time!

My roommate, Austin, and I are mostly moved in. That is to say that all of our belongings are in the apartment. My room is arranged and clean (miracle, short-lived to be sure). His bed, dresser and desk, and our kitchen table, are at his mom's house in Grant's Pass, southern Oregon. He will leave on Sunday night to get them.

The Comcast technician will arrive between one and four p.m. to install our internet service on Monday.

We have purchased a shower curtain, kitchen garbage can, and some groceries together. I think it is going to be an adventure, and I am excited to live here.

Life is full-speed-ahead, and that is a good thing.

I like our neighborhood. There's a little diversity, and the neighbors seem cordial enough. One old and cane-wielding black lady stopped me in the parking lot as I was carrying an armload of books and clothes. We said hello, and I smiled. She asked me if I was a Christian, said that I must be, because I smile so big! I was a little surprised at her straightforwardness, and stammered that, yes, I believe I am a Christian. I don't remember her name, but I look forward to running into her again.

My car is broken, and in the shop. Hans' Foreign Auto. Yep, he's German. Grew up there, working on Volkswagens since he was 12. I'm in good hands (hans, get it?). I spoke with one of his mechanics today (Brandon), who said that the engine's not sparking, and doesn't seem to be getting enough fuel. He's investigating the fuel lines, spark plugs and cam. To fix it will cost between 4 and 500 dollars that I don't have. Lilies and sparrows. They neither worry nor care. I know God loves me more than he does them, so I will trust for his provision and plan.

In the meantime, I have been taking the Number 75 bus, and the MAX light rail to work. It's not bad. I miss the comfort of my Passat, though.

I'm going to sign off now, and go home to bed. Hopefully. I did just open a Mountain Dew. Sleep well, friends and faithful readers. More thoughts soon.

Wrist Pain and Trust Issues

I have tendonitis in my right wrist. I guess eight years of carrying trays finally caught up with me. The good news is, if I take care of myself and let it rest, it won't be permanent.

Then why am I typing?

Because I am seeing an opportunity in this to remind myself, and my one or two readers, of the encouragement and admonition Jesus gave in the Sermon on the Mount, and Paul (as well as others) echoes throughout Scripture.

I've been asking a few questions: "Why me? Why now? Will I be able to go back to work? When? What about my brakes and rent and my cell phone and food? I was just starting to get on top of my bills, and now this!" I've had a bit of a pity-me party.

I want to complain, really I do. And maybe in saying I want to complain, I am complaining. Hmm, deep.

As much as I would rather not, I have to see this as a blessing. I've not had a day off in over two weeks. I've been going non-stop between my jobs. I also have a girlfriend, church, roommates and various other commitments. Being unable to work has allowed me to rest, and to invest in these other things a little more.

I would be lying to say that I am not a little stressed out about the money. I do have legitimate need of it, in order to meet commitments (rent, cellie, utilities, debt payments, car insurance, etc.)

Ironically, our church has been meditating on Philippians this last month, and in chapter 4, as he thanks the Philippian church for their generosity toward him, Paul makes this profound statement, "...I have learned to be content, whatever the circumstances. I know what it is to be in need, and I know what it is to have plenty. I have learned the secret of being content in every situation, whether well-fed or hungry, whether living in plenty or in want. I can do everything through him who gives me strength."

I want to learn that contentment, too. To know (not just cognitively, but in my heart) that I truly can make it. That it is not through my own power, but through the Lord's.

Paul also reminds the church to petition the Lord for their needs. He says, "Do not be anxious about anything, but in everything, by prayer and petition, with thanksgiving, present your requests to God. And the peace of God, which transcends all understanding, will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus."

He knows what I need, and he will provide.

The truth is, even if I don't have enough money to get my brakes done or buy a new book or take Saralyn out for dinner - I still have plenty. I am still well-fed. I have a roof over my head (at least until the next rent check is due). I have it better than at least 80% of the world's population. Look at the slums of Calcutta, where Mother Theresa labored her life away for the poor and forgotten. Look at the swollen bellies of African babies. Look at the shacks, diseases, poverty of these people. Look in their eyes, and tell them you don't have enough.

It is by the grace of God that I will have food in my belly, and a roof over my head. If he takes those things from me, as well, then "I can do everything through Him who gives me strength."