Wicked Night Downtown

So Friday night started with YFM, the Citadel Youth Group. It ended up being a movie and games night, which was a blast. I played volleyball horribly for a nice while, and fell down a few times. We lost, but had a blast.

Then Rebeca, Catherine, and I went to Mr. Sub to meet Greg, and partake in some cookies. They were professed as the best on earth, but I didn't see it, to be honest. Good, but not the best.

Back to YFM. A bit more laughing, joking, and being awesome. Then it was over. Thinking SASF was doing downtown ministries, five of us (Myself, Mark, Greg, Catherine and Meghan) piled into Mark's car, drove downtown, and tried to find the van. After a bit of searching, we determined that we must be in the wrong, and set out on our own.

We chatted with some people, and met some interesting folks, playing music and begging on the street. I can't wait to go back again, and talk with some of these guys again.

One particular incident makes me wonder, though. We went down by the waterfront, and looked at the Naval vessel there. Turns out, it was a French research vessel. Two guys came over and started talking with us. Maybe this is where I'm a terrible witness. I didn't mention, nor did I have any intention of talking about God when I started talking to those dudes. I was just ready to chat, and learn something about another life. However, through our conversation, somebody managed to work in how much we all love God. That's good and everything, but it seemed a little forced, and I sensed (though this could simply be because he had a less-than-stellar grasp of English, more on that in a moment) that one of the guys was put off a little by it. He patronized a bit, and said that it was good to be "siris" - which I took to mean "serious" - about life.

I would have liked to talk to him for a bit myself, because it's not about being serious ... or whatever. That having been said, he probably wouldn't have talked to us without attractive ladies present.

Interesting note that came up throughout conversation. According to this guy, the English word "god" sounds very much like the French word for a certain female-oriented sex toy. This would explain his bewilderment when Catherine started talking about how much she loves God.

After all that, the bunch of us took some time to go up near Signal Hill, and sit around, talking and just being plain awesome. That was an experience, let me tell you, but I probably spent too much time thinking about how God wasn't in the wind for Elijah, and he wasn't there for me either. It's a big fingerprint of God, I mean, don't get me wrong. But the wind didn't seem to speak to me like some others expected it to speak to them.

I like Chris Rice, this song has spoken to me since the first time I heard, after my very first YC.

I would take no for an answer,
Just to know I heard you speak,
And I'm wondering why I've never,
Seen the signs they claim they see,
A lotta special revelations,
Meant for everybody but me,
Maybe I don't truly know You,
...
...
Now I've never felt the presence,
But I know You're always near,
And I've never heard the calling,
But somehow You've led me right here,
So I'm not lookin' for burnin' bushes,
Or some Divine graffiti to appear,
I'm just beggin You for Your wisdom,
And I believe You're puttin' some here...
...
...
Cause I can sniff, I can see, and I can
count up pretty high; but these faculties
aren't getting me any closer to the sky,
but my heart of faith keeps poundin' so
I know I'm doin' fine but sometimes findin
you is just like tryin to smell the color nine.
Smell the color nine...
And I believe You're puttin' some here...
or maybe I just simply believe...
...
...
Nine's not a color...
and if even if it was you can't smell a color, no
that's my point exactly.