Sorry for the lack of posting last night. I went to Mill with Greg and Sonath and then it was late, so Sonath stayed over; It’s hard for me to write these things when other people are around and it would be rude for me to stay in the living room and type this while the kid was trying to sleep, so I couldn’t post. I’m not really sure that anyone minds that there wasn’t anything last night, since I’m not sure anyone reads this on a regular basis. Anyway…
There were a couple of thoughts that occurred to me while we were out and among the various groups of people who gather on Mill Ave. on a Friday night. First of all, I realized how hard it is to talk to people who you don’t know out of the blue. I had intentions of meeting people on Mill, getting to know some interesting folks, have conversations that I normally wouldn’t encounter in an average week. The reality of what actually happened consisted of Sonath, Greg, and I sitting in a relatively secluded corner of Coffee Plantation and sipping our various beverages.
The other thing that I couldn’t help but notice is how many people are out searching for fulfillment in sad, self-destructive ways. I’m thinking specifically of the clubbing/drinking/scantily-clad set who is so prevalent on Mill during the weekend. On every corner there’s a veritable flesh market where women in halter-tops, barely keeping their assets concealed are bombarded with come-ons from guys. I assume that the scene is even more like this inside the many clubs and bars along Mill. I don’t mean to sound like some sort of prudish person who throws judgment down on people just out for a good time on a Friday night and who, like some old spinster woman makes generalizations about peoples lives and comes down on every behavior that more legalistic churches find wrong. I don’t have a problem with clubbing and whatnot, but I just feel bad that some people only have that for weekly fulfillment.
Trying to reconcile these two things I noticed while sipping more boba tea down on Mill is rather difficult. I know that as a Christian I’m called to share my faith with people who need it, but being afraid to get to know other people and talk to them makes the whole calling thing hard to do anything about. I feel convicted because I can perceive people’s needs, but my own discomfort won’t allow me the possibility of addressing those needs. It shouldn’t be this hard…I don’t want to go out and preach fiery sermons on the streets of Mill…I just want to get to know people, show genuine compassion and understanding toward people, and think of them less as the sum of their traits and appearances and more as people. Anyway…I’m rambling.
I guess I should wrap this up because I really need some coffee. Getting less than eight hours of sleep makes me tired…must wire my eyelids open and pour hot, life-giving, bitter, wake-up juice down my thoat.
Oh…for the record…I take back every bad thing I said about boba. Last night lychee boba took any animosity I had toward the boba beverage genre and turned it into love. Mmmm…I fantasize about lychee.
