Days like today was aren’t exactly ones I’ll remember on my deathbed, but today was just good in its ordinariness. Some simple pleasures and experiences that, in sum, make one glad to be alive.
The day began with some near-perfect Stumptown coffee from Albina Press. On my midday walk, I called my mom before lunch. I hit my milestone for editing, and my colleagues like where it’s headed. I headed out to Cascade for our evening worship - the traffic wasn’t too bad. Waiting in line at Burgerville (for a turkey sandwich), I met Matt, 27, who just got out of prison and was spanging for change so he could stay in a motel. “I’ve never been on the streets, and I’m just really afraid of having to spend the night outdoors.” I gave him what I had ($4) and loaned him my phone so he could call a friend. I invited him to church with me; while he declined he said he’d been thinking about the Lord and that this might be a good time to turn around his life for good. I told him to visit Metro C of C in Gresham, or Life Change in NE Portland for help with that. I told him we’d be praying for him.
After that, we had a huge crowd at Cascade for our meeting; Southwest C of C’s vocal group led worship, and we had some great fellowship time. I found a skateboard (still there after several months) behind some paintings there. Woo hoo! I went out into the sunset and skimmed around the courtyard for 20 minutes. It felt like it was yesterday, but I still apparently can’t ollie properly after 20 years! I’d love to get a simple board that I can tool around the neighborhood with.
After that, we got a call on a Craigslist ad - bikes for kids! We picked up two sweet 20” Schwinns for $35 each. The kids were so excited! Trinity rode for a bit without training wheels, which was a first!
Then, for reading time, Trinity asked if she could read to me from the Bible. Praise God! I hated to turn out the light ("But Dad, it’s the Bible!!"), but there’s PSP tomorrow.
Nothing huge, nothing I’ll remember in my fading years. But still a perfect, complete day.
