It is now nearly 12:30 a.m. on Jan 1...and my upstairs neighbors are having quite a party. They have quite a party often, actually almost every night, usually not starting till 11 pm. I even called my landlord tonight, and he, I thought, was calling them. I really don't want to be a party pooper, but...
Otherwise, I cannot imagine a more wonderful way to spend the last day of the year as I did today. Most of the day was spent at the Starbucks at the corner of Westport and Broadway, listening to Ives and Hoverness and Torke and writing out my notes for the workshop I will be teaching four times this week at the Congress on Evangelism "Standing on Mr. Wesley's Grave: Following OurFounder into the Emerent Conversation." I have it about 75 to 80 percent written out, but need to do a few more things tomorrow. At 5:30 Cana Ruthie and I went to Jacob's Well, heard another great expository sermon from Tim, and then came home to snack and watch her newly-purchased video of "Ocean's Eleven." And then to conspire on how to respond to our noisy neighbors.
Nothing makes me feel better about life than working like I did today, and being with my kids in church. Cana got grape juice on her white tights (one drop) and said that she thought we ought to write a book on "Holy Communion Horror Stories"--just between us, we remembered several---both of us had at the top of the list a time when the four of us had camped in the popup all the way to Ottowa, to a conference in 1995 where Philip hoped to sell stoles, etc---the first night we were there, we went to a worship service, and for some reason we ended up on the front row. We took communion first, and it was by a common cup---and when we got up to the place on the chancel where we were supposed to take it, and where, by the way, the entire congregation present could see us, five year old Caleb, second to receive after his father, tasted real wine for the first time...and pk trooper that he was even then, did not spit it out, but did screw his face up in a fairly awful snarl. Anyway, Cana and I giggled as we remembered, (yes this is during the holy time of people continuing to receive the elements) about the large cup of juice I spilled when my chasible sleeve knocked it over...I think at Canton ( I am not sure I ever wore a chasible again). Anyway, the point is that it was so good to sit with Cana in the pew, to watch her be attentive even to Tim, and to take communion with her; good to work on emerging things all day; and so good to be looking forward to the four days and three nights at the Congress on Evangelism...Happy New Year, all!
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