Of koffee houses and kings



Listening to my son sing at tonight’s Autumn coffee house was a rare treat. To have my nephew show up to share the evening was the icing on the cake. Achilles, one of Matthew’s friends, is a brilliant entertainer- a real crowd pleaser. Jenny, Fr.John’s wife, has the voice of an angel. To listen to the dualling Russian/Roumaian combo featuring Constantin and friends was toe tapping to say the least. However, I found myself feeling acute pangs of being a fish out of water…my own fault for being so shy. I suppose one has to feel safe before going out onto too many limbs. Sometimes I wonder if I will ever arrive. It is a tight little community- one where it would be difficult to sit on the fringe. All the more reason to exercise caution. I don’t know who I am anymore, but I hope I know Who I serve. The King knows no boundaries but those of the heart.

4 thoughts on “Of koffee houses and kings

  1. Josie,I think it’s a good thing not to know oneself too well. We tend to hold on to aspects of our personality as we get older instead of letting go and letting the king shape us. I definitely know what it’s like to not be comfortable in an uncomfortable sort of way. I’m learning how to settle down and be at home in his love for me. It’s not always easy because my pride sometimes will not allow that. Pride is such a %$#@#$%!wl Is it not?

  2. Right you are Paige- pride and insecurity are flip sides of the same coin. Right now I feel so theologically confused that I don’t know where I am coming from. It is good to be reminded that God’s love is the only constant. He loves me, without the labels. If only I could get that deep into my soul- sometimes I feel like a hopeless case.

  3. Ah, there is a story behind the cat. She was our Pippi for many years until we relocated to Mississauga, Ont. Immediately upon being released from her two weeks of confinement she disappeared without a trace. I subsequently learned that Mississauga is riddled with coyotes and, upon further thought, realized that I had not seen a one cat upon a doorstep there… My husband is sure she was eaten by East Indians. Egad.

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