Over the course of the summer, with the non-stopped pacing… The Ramblings lost it’s way. It lost it’s teeth.

Well, I’m here to tell you that I’m back, baby, with a vengeance. The coffee is kickin’. I’m awake. And let the rants and rambles return!

So, hello again…

Ahhh, the black devil. It’s robust aroma. It’s full flavor. It is destiny in a cup. I’m a coffee purist. No sugar or cream. Just black like Darth Vader’s butt. A good cup of coffee is an experience. Savor it. Enjoy it.

But I noticed something yesterday, while on my fourth cup of the day (and by cup I don’t mean a sissy 6 ouncer.  I’m talking a big honkin 24 oz. glow in the dark, filled with the spirit, TBN mug). I was dragging and said to the coffee (you know you have a problem when you’re talking to the coffee) ”one more time, baby.” I realized that I was using the coffee to get me through the day. At that moment, I thought I needed it.

I always didn’t used to be this way. I’m from Georgia and coffee there isn’t as big of deal as pork rinds. I was uneducated and started my journey with Kevin Bussey. He opened my eyes to Starbucks. Till that point I had assumed that it was coffee for people who liked to pay too much. That is where my love affair began.

Then as the fog lifted on my afternoon, I saw that my life was being run on caffeene and not fueled by the Lord. Big gut check. So now I sit here looking at my empty beast of a mug, drinking water and enjoying my day. (I’m not going cold turkey, one beastfull a day is enough for me)

What do we rely upon? Mine, was the black devil. Somedays more than others. I’m not saying that coffee is evil (unless it’s Yuban), but my dependence on it is. So what do you find yourself relying upon?

Oh and a note of those who buy those frilly-non-fat-soy-vanilla-mochiatado girlie drinks - that’s not coffee! Real coffee is so thick you need a spoon. It’s like a meal in a cup. It put the hair on your chest and makes your voice drop an octive.  Men have died drinking real coffee. Ryan Dean, gingerbread latte is not a man drink either. Pull up your britches boy and be a man!) 

Arggh! It’s 3:58 in the afternoon and I’ve got this coffee headache that either means I’m low on the caffeine or had too much. Not really sure which one it is. The dilemma!

It made me think of the aches I have in the road I’m currently walking. I’ve been a missionary out here in the great (unchurched) state of Washington for about a year. I’ve had highs and lows over that time, both personally and spiritually. It’s been one challenge after the next, but that’s the way I choose to live. I enjoy the challenge.

What I don’t enjoy is the challenge with a coffee headache. It slows the mind to a snails pace. But let me tell you about my ministry and what lead me here.  I’ll Pulp Fictionize it and tell it out of sync and hopefully by the end it will all make sense and John Travolta will be dead. Hopefully.

I work for a ministry called Youth Dynamics and our mission is to invite and challenge youth ot a lifelong journehy in relationship with Christ and His church. We basically find the dirty kids, share Christ with them and then plug them into churches [this being the over simplified dumbed down version].

Being in ministry for 5 years, I had never seen myself entering into a support based ministry. Support based meaning that I raise all of my funding (ie. salary and ministry supplies).  I have some amazing faithful folks that support me monthly keeping me here. Because of them I am able to work, investing myself in the lives of youth in this area.

Support raising has been for me a rollercoaster ride. I’ve had highs and lows. It’s definitely been an area for me to see God’s continual provision. It’s also been an area for the enemy to attack me with discouragement and despair. But then again, no one ever said that ministry was mean to be easy. Heck the Christian life isn’t meant to be easy.

So I find myself here, with the coffee headache, thinking about my current low support levels. Which is not a good thing. Headache + trials = me leaning on my flesh and not on my Savior. I am reminded that I have been called here to serve and that where God calls, he also provides. I also know that I have to do my part as well, hitting the phones and setting up meetings with folks to see if they would be interested in begin apart of my ministry.

Well, I cross one hurdle in this life only to find that there’s another one. I should probally get out of the high hurdle race and pick up the discus or shotput. My last hurdle? Oh, well that’s another story… (to be continued).