25 August 2016

Cries and Hugs and Prayers
Time for some real honesty. A stream of consciousness of my current greater existence. 
I've been thinking a lot about God recently. Or rather, thinking about considering God. I'm still unsure whether to capitalize the G. This started back in March. Not the "G" thing, that started in 7th grade. There have been a few signs recently, and whenever one occurs my mind jumps back to 7th grade Bible class with Mr. Kawakami and his "God-incidence." 
The first sign came after Kenny and I left each other. I moved in with a guy with Rick, he said he makes crosses, or wants to make crosses... A Born Again. Well, maybe it started a little earlier when that kid killed himself last year. I went as moral support for Casey at the candlelight vigil. He had German with him. And everyone was singing songs and swaying and crying. I hugged a stranger and comforted her, gave her a box of tissues. And this consolation was all around. This community of people who care about each other. So yes, that was the first sign. 
And the Starbucks woman and her daughter. Esme and Rose.  I walked to the starbucks a mile down the street with Tibby, and this woman sitting on the other side of that green rail says, "Aw, I have a dog just like that!" Tibby puts his paws up to get a back rub and rolls over for a stomach rub, he knows how to play the crowd. The daughter worked at my former kindergarten, my teacher is her boss. The mother said this is the first time she's been out after the loss of her mother. We talked a long time after that. I hugged her as she cried. She said she would pray for me every day for the rest of her life. 
And on set. The guards who prayed for me and hugged me as I cried over my uncle having cancer and they cried over family members dying from cancer. The hug felt warm as she blessed me. An internal warmth.
And my new favorite thrift store – the guy working got the job because he met the owner at church.
And Matt's highlighted bible.
And the only car I left a note on to ask permission to film ended up being the car of my former professor of theology.
And everyone in Puerto Rico.
So it's like God is saying "Hey! I'm here, look at all these signs pointing back to me! Listen!" and I've had ear muffs on.

I'm going to church with Johanna and her family on Sunday. Maybe it's time to listen.

St. Petersburg | Russia | July 2016 | Pentax MX | Portra 400