This Is What Happened...

Sorry this one is a little late getting out. I've had a lot going on lately. Enjoy. My church community group talked about service the other night, how we can serve and love people better. It was healthy, but I've been thinking a lot about the serving thing lately. I want my life to have meaning and to serve others but I want to do it for joy and not for duty. However, when I think about what I love the list is very me focused usually. I love a good brew, fresh pipe tobacco, a healthy work out, and good body image. I like being full and rested and clean. I love speaking about God, encountering God, and I love seeing others do the same. None of these are bad things, but most are things that cost me very little and offer even less to others. The other day I walked over a bridge that had “Turn off your brain and float down the river” chalked into the sidewalk. I don't generally listen to chalk signs but I just let my mind take in the sun and the sound of birds and the beaut

Today I opened a book and was slapped across the face. I know this doesn't happen often as books do not have palms, however, on this day it did. I attended Arcata First Baptist Church Sunday morning. It was the first time I had gone there and it is within walking distance of campus. I arrived a few minutes before the service and sat around half way back in a pew mostly to myself. Standard Church, white haired guy in the pulpit, guy with a snap shirt and faded jeans playing the guitar occasionally whispering breathy things into the microphone like John Mayer. Maybe not so standard outside of Pentecostal services but fun none the less, two token white haired old woman waving pink, blue, and green, banners along side colorful stained glass windows showing ancient trees reaching up towards the stars. After the music ended and the hands went down, a man in his middle forties stood up in the pulpit. He introduced the communion supper to the congregation. I don't remember his word