How I am...

I do love this city. The days are hot, but as the sun fades from the sky and the heat recedes, people emerge from the shelter of their mud homes to enjoy the coolness of night. Sitting on a hillside I enjoy the ant like movement, to and fro, under the brilliant color of a desert canvas sky. Cruising with a friend with the wind sticking my hair up straight towards the sky I cannot help but smile at the perfection of this evening. It is moments such as this, that there is no doubt in my mind that at this time, in this place, with these people, my life is perfectly centered on the path my eternal creator has set before me. The steps I have taken to reach contentment have been grueling at times, but I can feel my spirit, mind and body toning for the future. I have an excitement for life that is rare to me. I can see, taste, smell, touch and hear the beauty of our broken world. I can sense the perfection that is under the corrosive rust of deception, an acid cloud settled into the hearts of men. Hope is a sweet taste that lingers on my tongue. It is balanced by the bitter, wholesome, coffee like taste of reality. To see the potential in the midst of chaos is a stunning site. There is a magnificent sculpture waiting to be carved out of the dead wood drifting through time and space called earth. It holds an allure of grandiose that only the creator can fully see, the place lost to all minds but those of Adam and Eve who once saw it, but left in shame. I can see the brilliant light filtered through cracks in the darkness, created by those that choose to love one another, to care for widows and orphans, to enter the gates of hell and pull out the dying.
Questions are like caffeine to my soul, opening my eyes, removing the dreary sleep imposed by the great deceiver, they allow me to see past the horrid pain that exists all around. I have a creator who will answer them, when my hope is slipping, my faith failing, and my strength wavering, I cry out, and from the vast expanse of the heavenly realm comes a voice of peace, soothing, reverberating through the problems of the day, rattling loose the grime that has lodged in my mind. Clearing my eyes to soak in the warm existence of something that is good, of the being from which our definition of it rises.
Last night my home was full of men, men that know this light only slightly, if at all. Looking around me love rose in me like rarely before. I want the scene of that dinner to be repeated in eternity. These are my brothers. These men are why I am living the life I am. My home is a refuge to me, one that I can bring others into. There is no greater comfort to me than community, lived in the light of Love and the one from whom it comes.
The café is beautiful. It has the blood, sweat and tears of months of expression and work built into its very walls. It is like no other place in the entire country. It speaks of art, community, and good food. People are beginning to find its tables and cushions a place of rest. Soon we will be in the stage of tuning rather than building and then… We will see if our hopes come true.