Quick glimpse of love in a busy coffee shop

I got into my car after class and drove. No major reason in particular except for the fact that I just wanted to drive. And drive by myself. I wanted to go do errands, window shop, do anything solo. I am a raging extrovert but even us people-people desire to be alone sometimes. I wanted to be by myself. Listen to myself think. Wander the isles of target and buy gummy worms to eat by myself. Smell my own smell and be silent outside of the busy campus I spend all my time on. And it is good.

I’m sitting here in a big comfy leather chair, next to a girl who has my same computer, computer case, backpack, phone and phone case. I have no idea who she is but when I asked her if I could sit down she got a huge smile on her face and explained that she was going to leave in a few minutes but by all means I could accompany the empty seat beside her. She pointed out our matching materials and I laughed and agreed and just sat there while she explained that she would be boring because she was doing chemistry. I just sat here, pulled out my computer, and got lost in all 200 of the windows I had left up after class. Did she really want to engage in a real live conversation with me? Why was she being so friendly? She got up and left and turned around before she got to the door, smiled, and said “I hope you have a great day!” and meant it. Wait…What? I seconded that comment and smiled and probably did a stupid wave of some sorts (you wouldn’t expect differently, would you?). She was so sweet to me, a stranger who was just trying to run from people, a divine encounter of undeserved love. Her perky, polite, persistent (triple whammy alliteration… whazzup English class) mannerisms screamed “I’ll love you even if I don’t know you, and even if I’ll know you only for a second.” Now that is something that’s not common to coffee shops at 5:30 on a weekday. Just a little something sweet for my already stellar day. Score. 

Swimming in a pool of grace

I’ve had a lot of time to evaluate things this week. My journaling habits are out of control. I started a new composition notebook (third this school year… sorry I’m not sorry) at the end of January and I am already a quarter of the way in. Last week gave me a lot of time to reflect, as my work-less weeks usually do. But, in a very weird obviously God given way, my school assignments made me reflect the most.

I had to go on a media fast for my Communications 211 class. I had heard of people doing this before, but I didn’t know when or how I would have to do it. We were given about three weeks to do the assignment, but in typical Randazzo fashion I forgot about it until three days before it was due. Technically, the media fast was supposed to follow a media feast, but I consider most days a media feast, so I didn’t set aside time to do that (aka I forgot). Back to the storyline, I had to give up pretty much all entertainment and social networking for 48 hours. This probably sounds like child’s play to some people, but to me, it was a daunting task I wanted to go by very quickly. I put up self control (an application that can block websites when you have no self control not to go on them) for the longest it could go, which was 24 hours at the time. I turned internet off on my phone. I put my ipod in my desk drawer and shut my computer completely down.

 Disclaimer: we were supposed to not text, too, but I’m a rebel without a cause and didn’t give that up. However, I strayed away from texting people unless they texted me first or I wanted to meet them somewhere.

The night before, I got a tiny bit excited. This will give me more time to concentrate on reading, or writing letters, or meeting with different people face to face. However, when morning hit and the media had to cease, my world was very silent. And I, Katie Randazzo, hate silence (incase you didn’t know that). The only time I like silence is when I am reading or writing for school. And in that silence came loneliness, a longing to talk to my friends from home who are spread all over this map, and a desire to dance (daily desire lets be honest) to loud music in my room by myself. But, I couldn’t do that, I wasn’t going to break this, because I’ve never been challenged to follow the rules in such an annoying way.

Although my world was very quiet in those two days, I was so distracted. My mind was wondering what was going on in the cyber-world, who’s status I would be liking, what blog post I would be reading, how I was supposed to tweet that quick comment on what was going on around me. All such stupid and miniscule actions compared to the bigger story. But, its something that was there and that was taking me away from being fully where I was.

I became so distracted that it annoyed me, and I prayed for silence. Somewhat ironic that I was distracted since it was silence that was causing my mind to go all over the place, but I knew that’s what I needed.

Then, two hours before the final bell of the 48 hours that felt like 2 weeks, my mind and heart were silenced. Clearly, it was the Big Man upstairs showing me a heavy dose of undeserved grace. I had become distracted in such a materialistic and worldly way. It was just a little “heads up Katie, I’m bigger than that, and anything else, and I want you to know that always.” I was overwhelmed with joy and content-ness at the end of the 48 hours, humbled by a Father who yanks me back into his big loving hands even when I don’t realize I need to be yanked back.

That night was one of the funniest nights at school, as a small group of us (Willie Mears, here is your shout out) sat around in a garage, went to waffle house, and stayed out too late for the old lady in me to function. I don’t think I’ve laughed that hard in a long time, and even successfully got the whole table to participate in my favorite nighttime discussion: top 3 things (sharing the top three things of your day… I’m a nut for those highs and lows sorts of thing).

I was surrounded by people who loved me well because they were loved well first. My heart was amazed at how continually blessed my days are, and surprised at how much a stupid school assignment effected my story. I am literally swimming in a daily pool of grace, even when I don’t personally think I need to do water aerobics that day. Daily washed clean by a God who knows me better than I know myself, and knows what it takes to see him in my daily movements. 

A New Scene

This week was… simple, to say the least. I am pretty positive I still haven’t done really any academic work since Monday, which is probably not a good thing. I am still just spending time slowing down, which is necessary. Life will speed back up again, I am just going to enjoy the jog until it does. Nothing was really going on all week, so it made for a good week to just be intentional with those around me. I dig that I am in a community and atmosphere that allows me to do that.

Thursdays are always my favorite day, but this one was special in new ways. No, it was not just because of the theme meal, which unfortunately didn’t meet many expectations, or the fact that I got my summer staff assignment email. Thursday was special because we branded it; we did something to give it a new name in our stories.

The three of us sat there, thinking of something to do. Of course, we couldn’t figure anything out, and were scared of venturing into the cold anyways, so we decided we would just stay in and not do anything. The silence didn’t last long until a friend shared her heart with us. She shared the significance of the day in her story. How many memories it brought back, why the day was so significant, and the expectations that the day didn’t meet. She laid her heart out for us to see. An undeserved glimpse into a broken story that is being restored. We sat there, silence between us, tears in our eyes, because nothing was going to pave over the rocky story we had just heard. I couldn’t sit still. We had to do something.

I read in Donald Miller’s A Million Miles in a Thousand Years (2^nd best book ever, read it if you know what’s good for you) about a friend of Donald’s, Bob, who makes memorable scenes in his story by doing things that will brand the day. I am all about that idea, and I am even more about celebrating loved ones lives well. So, the idea hit me.

“Get into warm clothes. We’re going somewhere.” The three of us dropped everything, layered up, called a few friends who weren’t with us, and briskly fleeted to the car. We picked up the other friends and headed towards the ocean. It was 11:30, we had 30 minutes to make it to the beach and still have it be February 3^rd. The drive takes about an hour, there wasn’t any physical way we would make it, but we sure acted like we could (Mom, if you’re reading this, don’t worry, I didn’t speed. I am your safe daughter.).

The car ride was beautiful. We listened to music, but most of the time, we turned it down. We celebrated life together, despite how tired we were getting. We celebrated my friends life by affirming why she means so much to us. We laughed, we sang, we danced, we got lost in the ghetto, we did everything that makes us feel human. We finally arrived to a deserted Virginia Beach, even more deserted than it usually is. It was about 12:15, but in our books, it was still February 3^rd. I parked the car and we all got out, blanket in hand, with no plan but just to be there. As soon as our feet hit the sand, we ran. We ran in circles, screamed, laughed, jumped and ran towards the water.

We stood there in the freezing wind, and watched the fine line between the sky and the ocean at night. We felt small. We felt real. We felt beautiful. We huddled up, under blankets, and prayed to thank God for the beautiful life of our friend. We agreed and thanked Him for the big plans he has for her, and how much she has impacted our story. We cried, we laughed, we hugged. We talked about the bigger plan, and how we were all here for that.  We felt real. We were real.

We stood there for a little while longer, then got back into the car. On the way back, we couldn’t steer conversation far from the night, how glad we were that we had gotten up and done that, and how much things like that mean to us. Celebrating friends lives, all the nasty stuff that stinks to bring up, and all the joy in new hope were the themes of the scene. All of us were there, with separate stories, intertwined in the last year, with scenes waiting to be made memorable. We branded the day with fresh joy, so we could always look back and remember why February 3^rd means so much to us. We weren’t going to remember it by just doing something ordinary.

Donald Miller once said “A good movie has memorable scenes, and so does a good life.” That’s what I want. Scenes in my story that are going to be symbolic, unusual, real, and memorable, and sometimes, you just have to drive to the edge of the earth to make them that way.