Blog-down

It is the final week and though I am busy and have many other things in the agenda, I want to do a bit of a blog based count down. Making little observations everyday kinda thing. It is no doubt just classic procrastination to avoid packing and cleaning. Problem is, my blogbook (the place where I write down all the nonsensical trite that happens to me when I am not near a computer) is overflowing from just a few hours of life; and there is some AMAZING praise points which really should be included; and I already had an idea of what I wanted to write for this entry from days ago but it looks like I may not get the chance. I have, afterall, already filled a paragraph with the introduction.

Was my last day at JdeM. That is the homeless kitchen for those that don't know. I was going to summarise what I've learnt there, catch up on what actually happened with the music idea and stuffs like that. Now you will have to wait, again, 'cause even today more über-cool wicked bad shit went down.

I was reading in Joshua the other day (just the first coupla chapters and no that does not mean I have finished Genesis, I am just skipping ahead - I love that about the Bible!) about how God was going to give him every place that he set his foot. Pretty acebloodytastic stuff in beaucoup trop ways and I would encourage you to dwell ont 'cause I probably won't be spending time exegesing it. Anyways this portion, combined with a friend that has been encouraging me to pray for what lies ahead and claiming it for my own before I get there, plus the fact that at the end of the chapter 2 it talks about the people melting in fear because God will conquer, got me really excited about the idea of seeing Him moving in places where He is not yet and the power of praying for it and seeing it happen. So, during a lull at the kitchen (mid-morning we tend to have a bit of a wait period and I am disadvantaged in the standing around smoking and gossiping stakes on several fronts) I decided to walk all around and pray for the place and the people there and those coming in and for the future that there would be God in da house and a way made for it and all that jazz. Yes it came across as a shuffling mutter but they see that quite a lot there. I was really excited by the idea, particularly in light of some of the progress that I had already seen in the attitudes of the people that worked there (which I am yet to mention but it did happen and was cool). Wanted to see the people's issues left at the door and not picked up again. I was quite up for believing that it would be an effective thing to make a difference - I think that I am such a prime example of prayer working that my propensity to doubt is not as high as my propensity to other things... as Robyn and I were taking about over dinner though, this just leaves more room for other propensities.

Anyways, did I see results? Did I ever! Not exactly what I was expecting mind. It was like the Tracy Chapman song - poor people were rising up and taking what was theirs. There was a new woman working there who had not had the weeks of prayer that had gone down, way back when the last grumpy cow was in charge (no offense intended, just the best description going) and she was overwhelmingly opposed to anyone being, well, happy. The thing in Geneva is that the poor aren't nearly as poor as in other places and half of what we give them is not food so much as a brief place to be and find some love. They got none of that from her and, while they can lack friendliness at times, never have I seen anyone refusing seconds to hungry street walkers when there is plenty there and it is normal policy. It was like she was fighting against joy. Pretty damn stressful actually and it occurred to me that, while I was subject to her direction, God clearly says only follow the law of the land when it does not go against His - and His says clearly in Isaiah 58 (as well as many other places I am sure) about feeding the hungry. Was I Supposed to rebel? I was, after all, holding the spoon... and it was my last day. With a lot of pressure from those talkin' bout a revolution and bit of feeble eventual arguing from me (I like to claim language barrier as an excuse but it doesn't really graduate to reason), she finally gave in a bit for a time, though stayed firmly in the misery camp (the rubbish alternative to the glory camp). Really felt like a "things have been stirred up" situation. If that makes sense. Was cool to watch in a horrifying manner mind, and would defo have made a good music vid for Trace.

Talking about being able (or not) to do pretty awesome/intense stuff in the name of following God's commands: a not very close friend of mine (some guy I met through the reggae crew) that I have in the past had some pretty interesting chats with (where I try not to be judgmental over him putting veganism above sexual purity) totally blew me away today. I have been getting really excited with his coming to church and really getting into God stuff and hearing about breakthroughs in his life. It is really cool actually but I have been awakened to the patronisation of my attitude - it didn't take long to go from new and open to set in ways and condescending did it? Amidst all this "I want to see you coming into God's way like I have" he tells me - when I finally noticed the 5 inch gash down the side of his face and asked about it - that it happened when he brought back a guy from the park to sleep at his place 'cause he had nowhere else to go. The dude attacked him with a knife from his own kitchen! And now he is all Jamaican and relaxed about it and joking about how the next person he meets in the park will just have to stay there! I would be a bit more pissed and a lot more martyr than that.

People really surprise you don't they?