Enough With the Hummus

It all started after things ended with John. Of course. Stalkers are always watching; that's what they're good at.

Alone in my abode, I've come to live a "Mary Tyler Moore" existence, as Mrs. Ivery calls it. I go out and come back when I want. However, it happens that I happen to leave at the same time every morning as my neighbor, who we shall refer to as Dan. When I see Dan in the morning, he likes to ask rhetorical questions like "Is it cold enough out here for you?" That kind of question doesn't leave much room for an answer other than "yes".

Obviously the dude likes me. It's not a pride thing; it's a "you are obviously trying desperately to communicate with me" kind of thing. I mean, what's the point, other than getting someone's attention to ask such questions? I believe there are far better verbal portals for open dialogue, but the rhetorical question approach seems to me the laziest way to engage another. But I'm getting ahead of myself; I'm not sure I want to engage with this guy.

Well, being the person I am, one night over Christmas break, I had my first real conversation with Dan. I pulled into the parking spot in front of my apartment, and I was walking to my front door when I looked over to see Dan standing by his giant truck.

"I like your truck, " said I.

Had I recalled at the time that I was living in the South, I would have known that those words are the way to any man's affection down here. What followed was a talk that at first was about a truck and then became more personal. It went from truck talk to evil ex-wives talk to you should meet my four kids talk. And then he asked me how old I was, and I told him my age. To my answer, he responded, "I'm 30!" At the time, I failed to realize that being in the same decade equates to love at first sight.

So then he said that we should get dinner sometime. Great. Where's your overprotective dad when you need him? I told him that I was going through a break-up and wasn't interested in seeing anyone. That subtlety landed on deaf ears, because after a couple more sentences about his second divorce he asked me again. And I turned him down nicely (which I didn't have to do). Before it was all said and done, he had asked me out to dinner thrice.

Somewhere in the talk, I inserted the fact that I live alone. Freakin' wing nut idiot! I regretted sharing that information as it was tumbling out of my mouth. So it was confirmed before his very ears... I was alone relationally and physically. He had to be thinking, "It's only a matter of time."

Can I read minds? No. But I can read actions pretty easily. Fifteen minutes after our rendezvous ended, I was sitting on my love seat and reading a book in peace. That's until I heard a knock on my front door. It startled me, and immediately I knew it was Dan. It had to be... All my teacher friends, Berry friends, and sane friends were either out of town or asleep. It was after 12am!

So I just sat there and waited for him to leave. Five minutes passed and some knocking... This time I was thinking about a way out of the apartment. Afraid he would see my movement through the blinds, I somehow managed the courage to sneak up to my bedroom. As I peered through the blinds, I saw him walk back to the stoop of his apartment. He then proceeded to light and smoke a cigarette. As I watched Dan, he seemed to be looking straight at me. Could he see me?

Maybe so, because then he walked over to my apartment and continued to pound out his desire to see me... this time, on my back door. At this point I really should have called the police, but I called the only people I knew to be in town: the Smiths. They retrieved me, in my frantic state, and I stayed at their house for the night.

....to be continued....

Sound of Melodies

Trying to squeeze a brisk 3 miles between art class detention and the Starting Point group in Cartersville was just about actualized when I looked over to see Ryan McClay, a former college teammate, sitting in the right-hand lane of Martha Berry HWY. As the window of his car slowly retracted, he yelled past his female companion and through my iPod-induced haze to "get in". After shifting my eyes left and right, I grabbed the handle and swung open the rear door.

"Skye Causey! What the heck!?"

I confess, I was thinking the same thing about Ryan. I can't imagine how it must have looked to the car behind us. Perhaps they thought I'd been offered Gatorade by a complete stranger to get in the car.

It turns out the Ryan and his (beautiful) girlfriend were on spring break. As they made a U-turn to take me back to my apartment, Ryan caught me up on a sliver of his post-graduate life. Never did I think he'd be a high school physics teacher and living in Texas. I don't think he knew either. After this school year ends he'll be moving back to Georgia, he says, to be closer to his brother (and his girlfriend, I think).

They dropped me at my apartment and went to meet some of her friends on Broad Street for dinner, and I went to my Bible study group with the promise that they'd come visit me at my apartment later in the night. And that they did.

Just after 10pm, they arrived. After the 25 cent tour of my current abode, we hung out in its micro-kitchen (which is still bigger than the kitchen in the old D.C. apartment). I was pressing shortbread dough into a round pan while listening intently as Ryan doled his experiences as a teacher. Universal themes abound! His findings were similar to my own, and that gave me a chuckle. Neither one of us were ever trained in education, and here we are... teaching the future generations of physicists and artists.

But there was more; he looked different. I knew it was more than having a new, and seemingly good woman around. It was more than having a job when others are losing their places. He was Ryan alright, but he almost shined. He went on to share about the last year of college and his journey to the place he is now. From getting caught at a drinking party, kicked off the Berry running team, going through the depression of knowing that college life was coming to a close, tearing up an offer to be an engineer, moving to Texas, and meeting his girlfriend at a MS kid's camp over the summer.

You have to understand the Rage rumor mill... I had already heard about his last semester, which was not unlike my own: full of sad uncertainty, fear, and drinking. To hear him tell it was to hear of a broken time. It plucked a chord in me, because I know God was reaching to lend comfort and help during that time. He had done the same for me. However, equally true: our hearts were not willing to receive counsel during those stages.

But what kind of god is this that waits? He doesn't give up on a good thing He's started. Ryan's story is another of the Lord taking a life out of ashes and bestowing a crown of beauty. I was so encouraged to hear about the spiritual regeneration and healed relationships in his life: proof of God's grace. He still redeems!

One funny note, though. I had been telling both Ryan and his girl that as my whole world was getting married, I was praying to stay single until the ripe age of thirty. Although he hadn't been praying for the same thing, when he met his girl, he was very happy to be solitary in that way. Apparently, they both weren't looking for anyone, and she didn't even consider the idea of dating him! Thus we end on the adage of old: "You'll find someone when you least expect it." We all had a laugh about how corny that sounded.

...When they finally they left to bask in the rest of their spring break, I ran to the kitchen with renewed hope and proceeded to enjoy warm shortbread in joy.

Starting Point

As I sit here, posting for the first time in a long time, huge turns pass before my mind's eye. Whether the choices I made were right or wrong, it seems that God has been graceful and worked them out for my good. Now I'm not saying that kind of good always feels good, but neither does being rammed after pestering a goat (that's another story for another post). Anyways, it's been a time of painful refining, the slow smoothing away of high points by water, and the burning away of the chaff.

Let's see. First there was the summer job at Target that I interviewed for, begged God for, and then capriciously forgot about after a week passed without a single phonecall. God is so graceful, He gave the position to me even when I gave up hoping. Then came a teaching position that I wasn't too sure about. I had pretty much pridefully sworn off that idea before I graduated from college. Not another art teacher who teaches because she can't succeed as an artist... God's funny like that.

"Do anything for me? Go anywhere for me? Are you sure?" - God

During the interview, which I felt talked into, I had no idea that I was peering over the edge. Again, I felt very much the fence-sitter I've always been. For days I wrestled with not knowing if this job was God's will for my life. I wasn't thinking, "Will I be good at this?"

I was thinking, "How in the heck could I ever survive?"

But I took a dive. I'm here... hedged in. Just like Gomer in "Hosea", the story of my life. "Lovers less wild" have been sloughed off to reveal the fresh and tender undergrowth of faith. Everything I thought was good turned out to be not enough. God has brought me to a place where only He is enough. No man, no amount of money, no amount of friends, no position, no level of education, and no esteem were ever enough. It's only now that I've realized, and hopefully, internalized forever this truth.

The joy is steady when I find myself seeking after and trusting Him.