Love

As I start this note it is 3:10am. I am exhausted, but I cannot go to sleep. I had an amazing encounter with God tonight. "Mysteriously" He donned the faces and hands and feet of many of my friends.

If I were to explain to you every moment of the evening that I "sensed" God's presence, we'd be here for hours together, and you'd most likely give up trying to read it all. But there are a few stories worth sharing, I think. Most definitely.

Tonight me and several of my friends gathered early at Jacob's Well. I had invited them to come at 7pm for some dinner and one last chance to hang out. Before we ate I asked if anyone would like to pray. Personally, I believe that the food is already blessed because it has been provided to us, but thanksgiving and humility are good disciplines, and prayer is an excellent connection to God, as well as a great community builder. So we prayed. And though I cannot repeat verbatim the prayer that was prayed, I was stunned by its contents. A friend of mine prayed for me and thanked God for what I have added to their lives. It floored me because I don't generally view myself as someone to thank God for. So often I am reminded of how far I haven't come and the ways in which I fall short, that when someone, whom I know is being honest, says something along the lines of "Asher's a blessing," it really requires me to stop and process. Just one way I felt God's love.

Another way was through the chalkboard above. Since October of 2006 I have been on staff at Jacob's Well. The Well has become a sort of family, in an of itself. The beautiful, unique faces of the well have driven me to insanity at times, but mostly, and most importantly, have helped me develop into more of the person I can love.

Every night, the volunteers recreate the chalkboard with artistic expression, some type of reference to where we're they are (the Well), their names, and the event (if any) of the night. And when I looked up, I saw "Goodbye, Asher!" Sigh. Love.

A friend of mine, one that I love dearly, is my brother, Parker. Parker actually wants to become a brother. Like... Friar Tuck. I love this man. He lives in Chicago so we didn't think he could show, but show he did! Parker has been amazingly gifted by God musically. Every time he sings and plays it's like a wave of happiness and peace for me. And you can see in his face that he loves God and is in His presence as soon as he starts, even when he's improving (which is amazing and hilarious!).

He lead us in impromptu worship tonight. We were sitting around the well, talking and he started improving, silly, fun songs. But the next thing you know, we're all singing,

"Love. love. Love. love. love love love."


Now, I know you can't really imagine what it sounded like, but imagine a group up some of you dearest friends, sitting around, relaxed and present; being. They're there because they value you. And they love God. And then, softly and carefully, you all start singing "love" to a strum on a backpacker's guitar. We also sang something like, "The Lord is my shepherd, I shall lack nothing." Now imagine everyone is completely focused on those words.

Imagine that you know, without a doubt, that God is among you. Sure, He's always there, always moving, always, but now you're aware. You can "see" it. It's not an emotional thing, no tears, no shakes, nothing but knowing.

You know God is among you.
You know He is pleased.
There is peace within and around you.

Peace that surpasses all understanding.

Good, right?

I can't think of a better "last night" with my friends, many of whom I consider family.

Here are some other favorites from the night.




Love you!

the Homeless

I gotta admit, I'm an uber-compassionate one. So generally, when I see someone down on there luck, I instantly want to help. My friend Don (Grand Rapids) told me once that this was because I had a heart the size of his office. I wish this was as much a complement today as it was back then. My super-sized heart gets me into a lot of interesting situations with enormous potential to wound it for a while to come. Because of this compassion, it might be able to assume that I am drawn to the homeless. Unfortunately, I must admit that most homeless people make me nervous. You have no idea how sad this makes me, but it's true. Don't get me wrong, I'm all about serving those who are homeless or don't have everything they should have, but I can't do it alone.

Last winter, while working at the Well, I had several "encounters" with a homeless man who was one step shy of being committed. From the get-go he showed signs of aggression, but we did our best to give the guy some company and warm drinks. Eventually, things got out of hand and one night he got hostile with me, threatening me. One of the wellers called the police (who came and rescued me!) and the church (who owns the building we use for the well) got a restraining order against him, banning him from all church property.

This winter things have been relatively calm. Except for tonight. Tonight I wasn't even working at the Well. Tonight I had hoped to sit down outside before we opened and read. But there was a homeless man outside and he started talking. And then crying. And then invading my personal space. Proceeding to tell me that he would protect me and give me whatever I needed and it kept getting more and more creepy from there.

Eventually I decide that it is safer for me to be inside the well, so I go in and make sure the door is locked behind me. Just a few minutes later I hear him knocking on the door and trying to get in. I shout that we aren't open yet and he asks if he can come in anyway. No, I said. He says something else and I decide to just walk away eventually, he stepped away from the door.
I thought that would be the end of it, but just in case, I call the guy who was suppose to open and he tells me he'll be there soon. Sweet. I look up and the man is now trying to get in from the front door. So from that point on I sat on our kitchen floor, hidden from the view of windows and doors and called a friend of mine on vacation. He and some of his buddies talk with me until the opening guy arrived.

But the saga doesn't end there. Oh no, it continues. The man comes in a bit later and starts talking to me and Red (this big, dad looking fellow who works at the well) comes around the corner and takes over the convo. The guy weeps and gets loud and it was just hard to handle. But Red did a good job. And I'm still alive. Always a bonus.

That's pretty much the story.

All walls down

I like to write when I'm exhausted. My walls are down, the masks are in bed, and I am free, if by no other cause than a complete lack of energy, to be entirely honest. When I'm rested my head gets in the way of my heart, if you know what I mean.

So hmm... I'm no longer with Nicholas. Not gonna lie, it's a roller coaster ride. But the weird thing is I'm not taking it as if I'm not beautiful or good enough. I mean, I worry about whether or not I did something wrong or he suddenly saw something he couldn't stand, but really, that's not my biggest fear, either. My biggest fear is not having him as a friend. I fear that we won't be able to continue on where we were before. I realize that it won't be the same, but something close to it...like almost the same would be good.

I worked at the well tonight. My hope in agreeing to do so was that it would distract me from my wounded heart. For the most part, it did just that. However, since Nicholas and I spend lots of time there, you can imagine that there were challenging moments. After Sal and I were done shutting everything down for the night we stayed and chatted with a few patrons. I was reading the staff journal (to myself) and there was a question that asked, "what is your favorite memory at the well?"

If I were to respond, I may say something like this,

"Several years ago, before I left for college, before I became 'Asher', the Well was alive with conversation and curiosity. The sheer diversity and quirkiness of both the staff and Wellers provided an endless source for both deep conversations and relationships. It was not unheard of, back then, for the staff at the time to kick Aza, Amanda, myself and many others, out so they could head to bed. And on the cool summer nights we would sit in the parking lot talking and listening, utterly oblivious to the passing time until someone would notice a lightening in the night sky's blue. Lighter and lighter and then there was purple haze, and pink, and then orange... and the sun would rise. In a slothful panic we would remember our jobs, our meetings, our classes, say 'goodnight' and part ways, hoping for two, maybe three hours of sleep before the demands of life began again.

We were blissfully unaware, in so many ways, of how unusual our ritual was. No one had yet told us how dysfunctional we all were, or if they had, we had failed to listen. We knew little of boundaries and balance and even self-love, but we had something that I can say I truly miss: a belief, naive as it may have been, that we could change the world, that we had it within our hearts, minds, and spirits to change the world for the better.

Now, five and a half years later, the dreams of a better world, of infinite possibilities, are buried beneath wounds, and failed attempts and educated theories. I can no longer look at a situation and think, "I can fix this! This I can change!" Instead, my degree-holding mind reminds me that failure is emanate, that the world can't really be fixed with belief and hope and a new program. My wounded heart tells me that I cannot succeed because I have failed and because I am too imperfect for anyone to take seriously. My friends, too, dream a little less. And if they have not yet stopped dreaming, they have spoken less and less of it, for our naive dreams were met with cynicism and doubt, and the fear of foolishness lingers just below the surface.

My favorite memory of the Well of the past is also my prayer and hope for the Well of the future: That we may begin to dream again, and that we would dream dreams that are larger than life and believe that we, even in our imperfections and failed attempts, our strong and able to take a stand for something and change the world around us in ways that others cannot fathom. May we begin to remember the beauty and necessity of conversations and relationships so good that they land us sitting on pavement at 5 in the morning, watching the sun wake from its slumber. May we never forget that it is the dreamers that the world depends upon to deliver us from our fatal prison of cynicism."

Vintage Sale @ the Well

Vintage Sale

Fri. Aug. 31/Sat. Sept. 1

2pm-Midnight

*photography by me... and the standard dim lighting of Jacob's Well =)

The story goes that I have tomorrow (Monday) off from both jobs and am then insanely busy for an indefinite amount of days. In fact, with the exception of Wednesday, each day is 10-12 hours long. I find out my schedules on Wednesday and that will let me know how long the stint of busyness will be. If I'm lucky I'll end up with a day next week where I'm completely free, like today (Monday). I do ask that you be praying for me. Not just for physically strength, but emotional, as well, as costumers and coworkers can be wearing at times. Also that I'll be able to say "no" to picking up more hours. Yes, I have my mornings free this week, but in most cases this week, mornings are all I have unscheduled. But the temptation will be there to work as much and often as possible due to the uncertainty of life right now. Pray that I would have trust and faith.

This evening at the Well was great. I finally have a parther. A guy partner. A guy partner who is a chilled individual and a hard worker who thinks I'm a great person. We're good friends to begin with and we make a great team. But seriously? We went through 6-7 airpump pots of coffee this evening. And we were only really busy for about 3.5-4 hours. It was a great time. Talking with patrons, making drinks, etc. We had a movie, scrabble and cranium going on inside and conversations on the outside. So chaotic, so much fun. Sundays are typically not like that at all. I loved the change of pace. I hope tonight's a trend that picks up some.

Now that my eyes are tired =)

Asher

oh, a day!

Well, today I worked both jobs... and it was my first day @ Espresso Bay. So far, so good! I was definitely a little gun-shy at first, but got better after about 20 minutes. They said I was doing really well and that they meant it. =) I couldn't have been doing too bad, they asked me to stay longer. I was only able to stay about 15 minutes longer though and then I had to rush off to Old Navy where I had a great shift, also. I was a little worried this AM about how long my day was going to feel, but it was goodness! Much like my days in college, it felt good to be busy. My day began at 7:45am and ended around 5:45pm. Not bad. =)

Last night ended earlier than normal for me. Usually I'm up until at least 3am, but because of needing to be at EB @9am I made arrangments to be at home at Midnight. And then it ended even earlier, around 10:30pm, because of some some other stuff, so that was was nice. I came home, took some time to myself and slept.

Tears on the Rock

It's 4:30am and I just got home from the Well. Under normal circumstances I would have been home over an hour and a half ago. But many a things occurred at the Well "tonight" (read: Sunday night) that lead to what kept me for so much longer than normal.

When getting into my car to come home, "You gonna be okay getting home?" (they bike and it makes me nervous that they bike home alone at 3am...)
"Yeah, but I think I'm just going to sit and think" (they'd been having a rough night)
"Well, I'm not really okay with that" (them sitting alone in the dark) "I'll just stay here with you and keep my distance."
"You don't mind?"
"Nah, they cancelled my shift for the AM so I don't really have to be to bed. Besides, I have lots of journaling to catch up on."
"Oh... well... in that case, would you mind talking with me?"
"Sure, if that's what you think you need."
"Don't just do it because you have to.."
"I'm sorry, what I meant was that I care about you enough to sit and talk with you if you need that. I don't mind it in the slightest"

We sat down and talked for the next hour-ish. I was one wild ride, let me tell you. For some reason, there outside the Well at 330am my counseling "skills" were as keen as ever and every bit of info I needed came to memory. Absolutely stunning. And it seems I shared my own experiences (like when I asked them to tell me what God was like and all they were giving was the Sunday School answers. So then I explained that when I'm having a bad day or am down I think of God as someone who loves everyone but me.) It was wild. Seriously. I certainly didn't solve any issues, but I was able to help them consider other possibilities as well as communicate in a very tangible way that I loved and cared for them in a committed way; not just with warm fuzzies.

It feels good to be used by God.

Asher
ps- I'm not some bravado either. I had "911" punched into my cell phone just in case anyone got the wrong idea, help was just a large green button away. Thankfully, I simply appeared paranoid. I'm not though. I'm just very aware that I am an easy target. :-P

pps- something I found on a friend's blog. they were interacting with a monk. here's the quote:

I asked him, ‘what do you enjoy about the life of a monk?’ He said that he is able to live by a rhythm of doing and being, a pattern of stopping and praying, of leaving work be and finding God. He said he has discovered the difference between that which is necessary and that which is essential. Many things in life are necessary. But they aren’t essential, that is, of your essence.

It is necessary for me to breathe
but it is essential for me to find God in every breath.
It is necessary for me to eat food
but it is essential for me to be a person of wholistic health.
It is necessary for me to sleep
but is essential for me to balance rest and celebration.
It is necessary for me to pay taxes and buy things
but it is essential for me to incorporate my finances within a global economy.
It is necessary for me to go to work each day
but it is essential for me to be who God made me to be.
It is necessary for me to be something
but it is essential for me to be me.

It is essential for me to know the difference between that which is necessary and that which is essential.

Tired and Awake

Last night was a fairly rough one. A friend came around and started picking fights. I sincerely sought to diffuse the situation, to bring peace and understanding. It didn't go so well and things got more out of hand than I'm okay with. A good friend of mine in Grand Rapids encouraged me this evening, telling me that given the circumstances it appears I was seeking to make good choices with the right goal... and that sometimes things like this happen. (paraphrased and condensed)

And while such encouragment is comforting, I find myself tirelessly mulling over what happened and asking myself, "What happened? What did I miss/not pick up on? How could I have handled myself differently?" I'm also forcing myself to answer questions like, "What did I do well? What did I pick on?" etc. in hopes that I don't get stuck in a rut of condemnation, be it from myself or anyone else. Needless to say, I got about 6 hrs of sleep on Sat night, went nonstop for 21 hrs yesterday, and then got about 4-5hrs of sleep last night. Today was a good day, though.

I was awoke by my girl Elysia who came over after her appointment with the Doctor to check on the baby. :-) Good times. I find much solace in our time together. I then spent some quality time with my partner in crime at the Well, Jess. We processed last night's events together, ate pizza, and then drove around the Penninsula. Fun times.

I'm going to try this sleep thing again. Hopefully take 3 for the day will bring rest and peace.

Check the Time Stamp

Go on, check it.

4am. Yep. I've been up since 11am and busy since 2pm. 14hrs after I started my working day, I've finished it. This wasn't so abnormal in college, but it's incredibly challenging these days.

We had amazing conversation tonight at the Well. That's awesome, let me tell you. It was movie night and we watched Jesus Camp a strictly film (no commentary/narrator) documentary about extremest Christians of the Charismatic wing of Christianity... and specifically how they indoctrinate their children. Having been discipled into an A/G church I figured I'd be somewhat sympathetic to the individuals, but all I saw was shallow, highly emotional experiences and shame-filled tactics. Halfway through the film I went outside I was so frustrated about how the kids are treated. I mean, no one's mean to them, but they're definitely being spiritually abused. And it's sad to me to hear (and I kid you not) one 8 or 9 year old boy explain his salvation experience like this,

"I've been saved since I was 5. I..when I was 5 life just wasn't fun anymore. I knew I needed more out of life. So I came to Jesus and life's been good ever since."

What? And their children's pastor was giddy with such an answer at her finger tips.

Another little girl, age 10 (I think), talked about hearing the voice of God. She was at a bowling alley and wanted a strike soo badly. So she prayed her little heart out... for a couple minutes, mind you, and you could hear the sweet sincerity in her words, "Jesus, guide the ball, help me..." And then she rolled the ball on down with all the strength a 10 yo can muster... and no strike. In fact, she was centimeters away from a gutter ball. The look on her face was crushing. She clearly didn't understand why God didn;t hear her prayer and answer. She went off and sat alone. No one bothered to console her broken heart. It angered me.

And then there was the home-schooling mom who believed President Bush has done Christianity a service. And who told her kid while they were studying science that global warming wasn't an important problem, and evolution not worth spending time on. I wish I could describe for you the actual conversation she had with her son. It made me so sad.

Or the 9 yo who wanted to be a beautician solely because she thought her clients would be unsuspecting and unable to decline the gospel.

And then the parents of these kids send them off to a camp where all ages were taught how they MUST change the world, that they have these experiences, that if they're not careful satan... well, okay, I think you get the picture... in essence, several of the parents were forcing their kids to have intense emotional reactions...

I'm concerned. I wonder what the bowling alley girl will understand God as. I wonder if she thinks she isn't good enough or God doesn't really care about her. I wonder what will happen when homeschooled boy goes out in the world and discovers that global warming and evolution are important issues. I wonder how many of them are forcing the experiences, much like I did when I came into the pentecostal circle, so they can get accepted and feel good enough. I wonder what will happen when beautician girl begins to realize people won't come back, or when no-fun 5 yo begins to doubt his faith as a teenager.

Let me be clear: I'm not dogging these kids. They're sweet, well-meaning children whose love for God is no doubt genuine. I am, however, calling into the spotlight this subculture that seeks to disciple kids like Muslim extremest do their kids... only with "the Truth." (I'm referencing actual statements by the children's pastor). I'm saddened.

We discussed it for a good 3-4 hrs. No joke.

Challanged.

There is no rhyme or reason to much of life. My best friend's dad was diagnosed with lung cancer two days ago. I cried when I got this news. Bawled. I was angry, bitter, grieved. At first I thought I was going insane, but then a friend reminded me that we are to weep with those who weep, and those tears should be genuine.

I know my best friend so well I know what she's thinking and feeling right now. I can also relate; late fall of my second year at Cornerstone, my mother was diagnosed with cancer; it's a frightening and earth-moving experience, let me tell you.

He quit smoking 35 years ago, folks... now if I could only convince Jordan, Ashley, Anna, Ben, & Sarah, all good friends, to quit smoking... (but they already "know" what they're doing, it's their decision to make)

If the doctors would have checked his lung scans they did last summer, they would have caught it then... so there's definite malpractice involved. Someone dropped a very important ball...
________

Tonight while working at Jacob's Well I found myself unusually dependant on God. It's sad that it's unusual, yes. Lately I've been on a short fuse because of so much of the crap that I see going unaddressed, and I was pleading with God tonight for Him to give me His heart for those around me. Those who, like me, are still in process. Note to self: depending on God is better than depending on self. I'm not saying that it was easy ('cause trust me, there are some very unagreeable people around at times), but as I consciously sought to extend kindness and compassion to everyone, even those who tend to find my buttons fun to push, I experienced a joy and passion in and for service that I haven't had recently.
________

I like the random hang-out times that my friends and I have. Jordan and Andy ended up coming over this afternoon for coffee, and Andy says, "Not to be rude, Asher, but I'm starving..."

I laughed. I am always feeding massive amounts of people. We made spaghetti. It's something I make sure to always have on hand for occasions such as this one. I have continuously told Andy he doesn't have to ask to eat, but being the gentlemen he is, he does every time. It was a great meal.
________

I'm headed to bed now. Justus is going to be here in 6.5hrs. I have the coffee set to brew itself at 8:50am. A whole pot. For me... and probably Ashley. I'm sleeping in my bed tonight! yay.
________

May God be your source of kindness and compassion, for you cannot love if you have no compassion. May your heart be transformed and your mind renewed. Sweet sleep!

-Asher

The Homeless, The Police, The Well

One homeless man sure can cause a lot of trouble...

Since Dec 31, 2006, Jacob's Well has had it's resident homeless man. On first impression he seemed needy and slightly manipulative, which are understandable and of no serious threat. The first altercation I had with him was on our first night meeting him where he threatened to beat me up if I didn't let him take a spoon... I let him have it...

It's gotten increasingly worse ever since...

Apparently, last night he was making rude and crude commenets towards female Wellers, and ended up getting himself booted because he didn't pay for the cover charge for the concert there was last night... and then tonight... oi... tonight was even better...

He comes in with two keyboards, two bars, a box of tools, 3 coats, headphones... etc etc... where might a homeless man find such goodies? "the ditch," of course. Ah yes! Of course! The ditch! ahem...

He tried to give us rotting meat, cheese, and other such products. He also pretty much had all his stuff strewn (I've never had to spell that word before, is that correct?) throughout the Well, taking over the place. I'm instantly uncomfortable with the situation. He's obviously toasted and smells of alcohol; great combination, I'm sure. And, because Michael is gone for the Marines, it's just Anna and I working (no guy)... so we call Anna's brother, who calls Gambo (Jeff), a staple weller who is big and scary looking enough to scare satan himself, lol... Gambo is also extremely protective of all the female workers at the well. I'm kinda glad for it, too. When it came time for him to leave, our homeless man pitches a fit towards me, and Gambo, looking on from a distance, signals to me that he's calling the police, I give the nod, and a few minutes later my knights in blue uniforms come to see our homeless man out of the Well. woohooo! They hung around the parking lot and eventually took our homeless man to jail, we think.

I got to thinking about the situation because my partner was rather unsupportive of my concern and disagreed with my advice to not allow him in the Well. You guys aren't getting the whole picture here, but it's definitely not safe for our patrons for him to be lurking around; the cops told us he had been called on 5 times that day and was unstable and capable of hurting others that disagree with him... wonderful. But my partner cited compassion as her motive, and I guess I understand that... what only to a point. This guy's a grown man, capabale of taking responsiability for himself, and TC has a few homeless shelters, and he knows what they are; he needed to go there for the evening. And it's not compassionate to indulge destructive behavior, or put our patrons at risk. Jacob's Well is meant to be a safe place for all, but if someone comes in who is unsafe, they forfeit their right, as far as I'm concerned... anyhow...

that was my night at the well...

Thank you to all my guy friends who so wonderfully cared for me and the rest of the women at the Well tonight. Your concern was evident and is appreciated!!!

Emotionally Whiped (for unknown reasons)

Today was a rough day. It really was. I had a horrible day at work (we're allowed those, right?) and found out I'm only working 5 hours next week... what the?? Ehh... that made the day harder... but even before all this I was out of it.

I ended up taking an hour and a half walk in DT TC, through some woods on NMC campus, etc... at around 10pm... I was later informed that this was a poor decision on my part & got yelled at for being careless, but whatev... in my defense.... I asked a guy if he'd go with me, he didn't want to... and I really needed/wanted to go for a walk... so I went. It didn't really matter what happened to me, I just longed for a walk...

And when I returned to the Well, Lindsey & Elysia were there waiting for me, we hung out a bit, and then Elysia left and Lindsey got to recording some of the open mic night music.... and I was just feeling... out of it. I was hoping that the walk would help, and it did.... but not nearly enough.

A few minutes later a weller came up to me and engaged me in conversation... I didn't make it easy, but they did it so well, just the same. I was impressed by their skill, so I indulged them... lol. Never underestimate the power of a good effort... especially when interacting with a teacher and encourager myself... we live to find good things and water them.... lol. Anyhow, I could tell he was looking for an avenue that I would open up to him through, but he settled, quite thankfully, with me telling him of my experience of getting a poem published in High School, and how I love to read. He shared his art with me and encouraged me to write poetry again; telling me about muses... etc

Then, a friend of mine gets up and... I've never heard him sing... but the words... his voice... seriously made my soul leap when I first heard them... absolutely gorgeous.

And it was then that I decided that my "guy" has to be willing to sing for me... even if he's bad at it.

I find it interesting that as soon as you (pl) verbalize a discovery or victory Satan's like: "Oh yeah?? *SMACK* take that!" And obviously, you know better now... but truth or not, familiar patterns are easier to succumb to, even if they are destructive. Support systems are crucial... and I made it through the day without telling myself, "You're a failure; you'll never amount to anything." It was hard, but I did it... :o)

peace. love. sweet sleep,

Asher
(check the vid below if you haven't, it's great!)

Moon-Rainbows and 1/2 degree burns

My posts must not be very intriguing lately... oi, what's an Asher to do?? Perhaps write about some of her antics? Perhaps.

Andy & I got done at the Well around 230am, and, as is custom (because I am completely fascinated with the sky.. stars.. and the unimaginable expanse it all consumes) I looked to the sky, not really expecting much because of recent snow, but still mildly hopeful because that's just how I am... well, lo and behold, the moon was out- a full moon, shining ever so brightly... with just a slight bit of cloud covering it... and this bit of cloud was lit up with the colors of the rainbow. It was absolutely gorgeous! I've never seen that before, but I'm assuming the reflected light from the sun (which illuminates the moon) was hitting the moisture crystals in the clouds which in effect, gave me this beautiful gift to witness this evening!

Remember previously when I wrote about my general knack for steaming milk? While, dear friends, you can just pitch that out the window, if you would. It must have been beginners' luck:

So, I'm steaming a chai for a Weller (one who comes to the Well often) tonight. Not too difficult, same basic idea. Steam in such a way that it causes the milk to swirl and you're making "sipping" sounds with the steaming wand... and get it to 140 degrees (legally, the 140 is a must)

So, ya know, I'm going about my business, not doing too bad, I try to turn the steamer off at 130 (so the thermometer catches up and I don't burn the milk... you steam it too hot and the molecules bust and it's nasty... though only to the untrained tongue, apparently) and the steamer keeps going... and going... and eventually explodes and over-flows, covering the espresso machine and counter.... and my right hand, which is currently suffering from a half degree burn. It's quite mild, but enough to annoy me.

All the time this is unfolding I'm trying desperately to get the name "Casey" to emerge from my lips... but I was in so much horror of the potential of the situation, I think my vocals just... froze... or something like it. Mess. Pure mess. Lucky for me, Casey's extremely laid back, graceful, and a great teacher... he then informed me that having the steamer up is also on... hmm... good to know! Oh... and the temp of that chai? Yeah... it was definitely around 180... whoops... totally burnt! :-p (no worries, I re-did it "perfectly" for the very patient Weller)

I also got the privilege of making the first espresso of the night. Ideally, it should take 18-23 seconds for a shot to run through. Mine, had I not stopped the timer in embarrassment, was around 36 seconds. Eek! Apparently, (I do enjoy that word!) this is normal, as Casey's also came out to that. Make the grind smaller and it makes the number go down... I think..

Oi Vej! I enjoy the Well. You just never know what the night beholds!

somethin' fun (that makes you re-think mentos & diet coke...)




-Asher

Jacob's Well

I've been wanting to do it for years.

I've prayed about it.

Thought about it.

Talked about it.

Thought about it some more.

Graduated college.

Moved across the country .

Still thought about it.

Moved back.

Did something about it.


I got a call this AM from Andy Mactavish (I think I spelled that right) and he ran it by the rest of the staff and woot... I'm gonna start helping out at Jacob's Well tomorrow.

This is very soothing news to me.

:-)

-Asher

Red Lights, State Police, & Jacob's Well

Normally I wouldn't be so open about this, but something divinely beautiful occurred last night, and I wanted to share it, hopefully pointing to the goodness of God by the end of it.

Yesterday was a pretty rough day. Though I only worked 5 hours, it just seemed to drag on and on and on... and on... and of course, I had a few extremely crabby costumers to make everything that much more flustering. Woohoo, right? And, my shoes split open, so this morning on my way to work I had to go purchase shoes and socks because my feet we soaked. And I also bought myself a much needed belt and a sweater for the winter. I bought the belt and sweater under the assumption that I had a check with several hundred dollars worth on its way... but my mom was wrong, and I was wrong... no big deal, right? I can still squeeze by, and next time I wont believe my mom when she tells me I have money at their house.

After work I went home and Lindsey and I made plans to meet at the Well around 8pm. So I'm headed to the well, just a few minutes away, when a light in front of me turns yellow... I start to slow, but then realize I would need to slam on my breaks and I wasnt sure, with the nasty weather, if that was the safest thing to do, so I looked both ways and kept going, when as soon as I entered the intersection, it turned red... and of course, as my luck would have it, a state trooper was behind me. Great. Wonderful.

I pull over, the cop asks me what I was thinking, I tell him, he tries to discredit my thoughts, goes away, comes back, and gives me a ticket. He then tries to explain to my how yellow lights stay yellow for 6 seconds or something like that... I politely asked him if he could spare me the details and and hand me my "civil infraction," he does, I leave, and I begin to cry.

A ticket may not be the biggest deal, but remember... I have no money. At the end of this month I will have $0, and I'm freaking out, because there is obviously NO money in my account for this... and I feel really bad, because I wasnt trying to disregard the law. I thought I was choosing the lesser of the two evils. Seriously, folks, I have never ever been issued a warning. I have never gotten out of a ticket. I don't cry in front of cops because I dont believe emotional manipulation is right, ever. But I gotta be honest, I was really hoping for some grace, some mercy. Of course, I immediately thought of the three people I watched run through an already red light, in a row, earlier that day... right in front of a cop... it was so hard for me to resist the temptation to say "it's not far," because the truth is, I desire to live safely and appropriately... and I had been caught making a mistake.

I pulled myself together and went inside the well, and someone asked me "how are you?" And I declared, "I believe God hates me." I turned around and walked out of the Well. Lindsey followed me, and eventually got me to go inside... when I got inside I started to cry, and turned around to go back outside, but Lindsey stopped me. Don't run, just sit, and stay with us.
And I did. And I cried for a good hour or more. I was despairing. How in the world was I going to find the money? How were things going to work? I've been bent on not asking others for help, because I don't want to outuse the generosity of those around me; I've wanted to make it myself.

Casey and Lindsey just sat with me. Casey rubbing my back without stopping, the entire time I was crying, Lindsey doing her best to listen and understand. Elizabeth made us hot chocolate, and Justin, who never does this, "danced" an interpretive dance with a chair for me. It was one of the funniest things I've seen yet.

And when I was expressing some pretty faulty ideas of God, Casey gently redirected me, stating that he knew I knew better, and I could be upset, but not to stay on that.

Maybe God doesn't want me to fall flat on my face again. Maybe He wants me to see that there are some parts of His body that are more than willing to meet my needs when I cannot, even if tell them "no."

I left the Well with $90 toward the payment of my ticket.

-Asher