Return

Fall break was this weekend; I haven't been home in two months. While Minnesota and Wisconsin are just one interstate highway apart, the distance is still too great to warrant a bus ride for six hours each way. With this in mind, I only come home once a semester in between breaks, usually fall break, since Thanksgiving is spent at my Uncle who happens to live nearby my college.
I don't mind distance. I think it's healthy for development and making your own story in this life. I think about how different my story might be had I attended the University of Minnesota or a local community college. Instead, I went where I felt God pushing me to, a state over in foreign territory with complete strangers. Now I have to admit, Waukesha and Wisconsin as a whole really aren't bad places to live; quite good, actually! I thank God every day for the people I've met and the experiences - both good and bad - that I've had because of such people. Yet I still treasure dearly my friends from back home. This weekend was a testament to how much everything has changed.
No one was home. Like, seriously, everyone was at college. Not that I can fault them for that; school break schedules aren't just all on the same...(wait for it) schedule.


Yeah I'm funny. Sometimes, I'm really astonished that I'm single.


This place ain't the hometown I am used to. It feels empty. People have changed, people have left, and those that remain are very caught up in trying to survive that the habits of old can no longer be sustained. Yet it really isn't towards those old habits/traditions that I seek; I just want my friendships!

We're all still friends, I know that much. I have my close group of friends which I will always be close with, no matter the distance and circumstances. I also have my outer group, whose relations fluctuate based on the distance the amount of time seen. I do what I can with those, but I cannot promise anything regarding stability.
But ah, that close group. I love 'em. This weekend was simply further proof. We decided to make it a night and go out to the local club for Life in Color. It was an especially awesome event, especially considering it was the first time I've really gone out this semester.

Post Paint Party in approx. 30 degrees with no dry clothes. #MNprobs

Friends do last forever; I firmly believe that. This weekend felt like a call from God reminding me of all the good he has done in my life and that he still enjoys making me happy. I like that.
Oh, but there was even more.
We decided to go to our church service at the Upper Room. I usually don't go due to work conflicts and me not being instate. But thank God I went. The hour and fifteen minutes blended together into a message I truly don't remember (all of it), but a huge focus was put into focusing in on worship - something the Upper Room is very good at - as well as forgiveness and reconciliation at communion. I'll admit, the different worship styles required me to raise my hands in prayer; that's so not me, at all. I let that one be (to be conquered a different day, hopefully), but I really did well at the communion aspect. Again, it pushed me outside of my comfort zone, as the server looked me straight in the eyes and communicated to me about God's forgiveness and plans - that's SO not typical Lutheran, the way I was raised. But give me some time in prayer and all is forgiven (HA, get it?!).
What got me more, and I suppose I should have gotten to this first (but I can't, because the sermon is a book on itself), was how I related the prior service I had attended to this new-found focus. The earlier service was about mission work and summarizing the local church's efforts in supporting missions around the world. One of the target goals was the post-Christian urban youth in America and Europe. After shown videos and pictures, I was immediately thrown back to the paint party the night prior. That place was the epitome of that lost part of society. Now, I know clubs can be controversial, especially within the church, but I'll just go ahead and say that, along with everything in society, the clubs can be as dirty and clean as you make them. There was a couple essentially having sex on the dance floor behind me the entire night, a terrible image in which they used me for, ahem, support a few times. Those people need Jesus. Who am I to judge, however, about their spiritual situation? I only pray that God would somehow use our presence there to witness to them. On the flip side, there were also dozens of people simply letting loose on the dance floor, not grinding or engaging in questionable acts; simply enjoying the moment with their friends. We were among that group, and it was so satisfying and right. Clubs are not automatically sinful because of what they can be used for; each of our actions that we do inside of them determines its harm to us. But I can guarantee that there are plenty of hostile and bad churches out there that do much more damage to their attendees than those in the nightclubs in Urban America. For me, it boiled down to my personal strength in my faith and the ability to resist temptation. Personally, grinding and drinking aren't huge temptations to me, so I can handle it. The same is not true for everyone; to each their own! But I digress. God used this weekend in three interconnecting pieces to show me what I need to be doing better in terms of witnessing. The experience (club), the message (first church service), and the push (second worship service). I feel like I've found my niche to witness to, now I just have to get used to it.

Matt, the best buddy.

Amelia, Matt's girlfiend and one of my best friends.

All together, one last time before we depart..

Okay, admit it. I'm kinda feminine sometimes. Especially lately. Ugh. Should I be eating chocolate or something?

Jacob