in the fury of the moment

a slacker's welcome to 2005

excerpted from my journal, and dated back so that I look like I am actually a good blogger

It's 2005. I'm sitting at a desk in my hotel room in Birmingham, AL. Just me and the bag of Red Vines that I just bought a few minutes ago at the Walgreens around the corner.

I can hear people laughing in the hallway, and I can still hear the snaps of fireworks outside. Man, this place has a thing for fireworks. From the moment I crossed the state line to the moment I pulled into the hotel parking lot, I think I saw more fireworks stores than ever before in my life.

So, I could leave now and still be happy that I came. The past 9 hours have been good:

-- My flight into Atlanta was ok. Nothing spectacular. But there was this great steward named Bubba. Big Indian guy ... not the person I pictured when I heard the stewardess introducing the rest of the flight staff. Anyway, Bubba made the flight for me. I got coffee to drink, and he kept coming back with the pot and refilling my cup. Seriously. Talk about service!

-- Another thing on the flight: the adorable little baby across the aisle from me. She couldn't have been more than a few months old. Baby was very friendly--mom was not. So I didn't find out too much info about the cute little girl. But I think she was the best-behaved child I have ever seen, anywhere.

-- I took the bus to go pick up my wheels for the weekend (sweet truck, Joaquin!), and encountered yet another adorable baby who this time appeared to be with very friendly parents. They were great, and even suggested a couple places in GA for me to check out.

-- I felt like it would have just been morally wrong to be in the south and not eat at a Waffle House, so I did. I wasn't even necessarily that hungry, but I saw the sign, so I stopped. Apparently I was hungry after all, because I completely housed the "All American (or whatever it was) Special". My waitress called me honey and sweetie and made me feel a little less pathetic about eating lots and lots of food all by myself on New Year's Eve. The dining experience in itself was worth the trip--the cook was a young black guy who truly seemed to love his job. On top of that, he sang along with the COUNTRY music that was playing. I just don't see that in NY.

-- After completely stuffing my face, I hit the road and made it to Birmingham without any problems. I checked into the hotel and headed out to find the concert at a local church that I had seen an announcement for online. After driving past the buidling twice, I found it. I went inside and found a seat in the dark part of the auditorium, where I could slouch and play the part of the mysterious outsider. Apprarently one of the bands was from out of town, so there were other outsiders there who stole some of my mystery.

-- A few minutes before midnight, they handed out little flashlights. Then they turned out the lights. My flashlight didn't work, but I was standing between two fellas who had functioning lights. We joined hands in prayer and prayed out loud for people we know, people we don't know, and the moving of God in our own hearts. It was a humbling sort of experience--holding the hands of two people I don't know and will probably never see again on earth-- and experiencing that connectedness that comes only from God. We prayed into the New Year, then the band led us in "Your Love is Extravagant". I don't know the names of those men, or of anyone else there ... except Shauna, who hugged me (a good, squeezing-the-breath-out-of-you kind of hug) and wished me a happy New Year. But God knows who they are. For a moment we were brothers and sisters approaching our Father together. I guess they still are my brothers and sisters ... I just can't see them now. What a cool thing though.

If the first few moments were any indication, this is going to be a good year. Maybe it will be a fat year, if I keep eating Red Vines like this. (Who finished the bag?????)

posted by Krista @ 1:02 AM