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Cafe Lalo

Me and Michele at Cafe Lalo

One of my all time favorite places in the world is a charming little cafe called Cafe Lalo on the Upper East Side in New York City. And, yes, I know what those of you that know me are thinking - and no, it's not just because Meg Ryan and Tom Hanks met there on You've Got Mail (although, sheer perfection that they did). I simply adore it's menu.....irish oatmeal with fresh berries....cappaccinos, lattes, coffee, sandwhiches made with goat cheese and melted spinch. It's a simply lovely atmosphere. Small, quaint, wood floors with a glass display of all of their delictiable cheesecakes, cakes, giant cupcakes with sprinkes topping them off....
Michele and I went there almost two years ago. I dragged her there knowing once she arrived she would no longer think it wasn't a nescessary sight-see. Uh huh. The same with Nat, Josh, and J-Paul. They ate their words, although they might deny this. Michele and I sat down and ordered the most delicious sandwhich while the guys at the bar served us free margaritas....it was two in the afternoon. We sat next to a couple who had to atleast be in their eighties. We ended up talking to them for three hours. They looked rather down dressed, almost poor. Very understated. I asked them...."so do you see any famous people up here?" "Well," uttered the woman. "Our next door neighbor is Martha Stewart." Her husband told us to google her name and when we did we found out she was a famous, innovative artist. The first female to have a piece of art - a sculpture - allowed into the Modern Museum of Art.
Upon leaving Cafe Lalo there are all sorts of "items" - matches, t - shirts, post cards. Of course, I am tempted to buy them all as any sane person would be. For it is simply the greatest coffee shop in the world. And it lies in New York City. I'm in Dallas unfortunately at the moment. Perhaps I was thinking about it because I made myself eggs this mornng and I thought very Audrey Hepburn like "OH, wouldn't it be loverly...." to be at Cafe Lalo, eating a waffle with a dollop of real whip cream and fresh straberries..... , sipping my latte, talking to famous artists in disguise. Hopefully in the fall....when the leaves change and as Tom Hanks would say in You've Got Mail...."Don't you just love New York in the fall? It makes me want to buy school supplies...."

Remembering Mark

I still think about Mark so often. He comes to my mind at weird times. Watching t.v., eating out, driving.....I remember things about him and smile. I tried to watch his funeral online the other day and couldn't do it. I was trying to show my mom who couldn't make it and wound up in tears and closed the laptop that displayed visuals, pictures, friends of my friend Mark.
Some things about Mark:
Mark would clip his toenails during our sessions. "I think I feel really comfortable with you". I thought it hilarious.
Mark would walk out, and our appointments were often early at 7 a.m. and he was definately a morning person. Bright-eyed, energetic. He'd walk out, point at me as if to say "YOU! Back in the office."
One time he said "hey sweet girl", as often he would and he said once "Do you know why I say hey sweet girl?...because you are." That will forever stick with me.
One time , after getting frequent throat infections he kept telling me to get a dental "pick". It's this long tube that squirts out water. He said his daughter used it for her throat by putting salt water in it and sticking it way back (yes, you gag) cleaning out the "white spots."
I never did. So one morning Mark grabbed my keys and drove to CVS and bought me one. Out of his own pocket. He was already seeing me with no charge. I think those little things about Mark are what made him so Christ-like.
He'd always be munching on an apple, bannana, or pretzels. He'd say "Wanna bite?"
I guess it takes awhile to get over someone's death. Someone that you imagine is still in his kacky shorts - well pressed iron shirt - like I'll see him Thursday this week and he'll offer me coffee....
It's weird to think of him just not there. Atleast his body.
Like I still have his e mail address on my account. I can't delete it yet. For some strange reason. It's not that I'll ever use it again. It's just I can't browse down click on his name and click "delete". Maybe I think it's confirmation....as though I needed it.
One time there was this song that meant a lot to me and Mark wanted to listen to it . It was some old seventies song, really depressing. So we went out and were listening to it in the lobby when another therapist walked out and stopped watching us listening to this seventies depressing song.
I looked at Mark and said "What kind of weird therapy is this?" We all laughed. He had a great laugh.
Death is strange. Death to suicide is even harder. Harder to accept. Harder to process. I once asked Mark if I could mess up God's plan for my life. "No."
"What if I committed suicide", I replied.
"Even then God would work it into His plan."
And so it is......
This picture of Mark was sent to me by his dear friend. Thanks! It's him, in his office, doing what he did best. Listening and loving. God, how I remember the chair he sat in so well...leaning back just like this, hand on his face just as it is.
I miss you Mark, so much!

The Good, The Bad, and the "Really?"

my mom: "meet a nice young man at Church" Ok, so it isn't quite as "Leave-it to Beaver" as that....
me: mom, you don't understand just because guys go to church and can spout out Spurgeon's sermons, does not make them godly men.

And so the troubling facts:
1. Dating in the first place is pressure
2. If you happen to convince yourself to go be on a date it may be that two minutes into the conversation thinking "Dear Lord, get me out of here or hurry up with that glass of wine", you are then forced to take two hours of your life being pleasant, aggreable, and you sometimes throw him a "oh, that was so funny" laugh. (Waiter...that wine?)
3. Do people really date anymore?

Not that I'm Ms. Experienced.
Definately not.
But I have had experience- enough that I feel like I can atleast with some credibility write.


Suspects.
1. We'll call him Bob.
Bob and I were "friends". Friends that hung out, went to eat, he would pay - we'd laugh, talk about God. He was Presbyterian so we'd often talk "doctrine" which I liked.
He liked not Star Wars, but Star Wars' twin...oh gosh, what's it called...well, he liked it. Had to watch it. Apparently I've surpressed the memories of the horrid, horrid movies. I thought they were a comedy. He didn't think that was funny when I mentioned it.
Bob had a stuffed animal his mom had given him. He slept with it and while it was cute...was it?...I fast forwarded to marriage counseling and knew "Fluffy" would somehow come up in our spats....


2. I once had a date, that was one time with a man who knew my faith was important to me.
Our conversation went something like:
We'll call him Andy.
Nat: What was your day like?
Andy: Well, today I had lunch with my dear brother in Christ. (plllleeeeaaaase.....)
And that's how the night went......He kept sitting in my car, I thought maybe wanting to kiss, so finally I said " I just don't kiss on the first date". He later went on to pursue a girl from his church. I think she was far more "spiritual" than I. (Please take this all in jest....mostly;)
Andy. Don't think he was a bad guy, just needed to be more real which let's face it we all do. But if there is anything worse than being unequally yoked perhaps it's being yoked to a man who would like to hand you his spiritual resume before dinner.

3. My relationship with Goerge. Goerge was cute, "knew the Lord", and yet somehow whenever God came up it came across to me as "words". I felt God was "used" if that makes sense. Though there are deeper red flags, those are to be shared with my girlfriends:), not a blog...:)
1. Goerge goes to a Bible study, comes over and tells me the minister spoke on abstinence.

Goerge: One day your husband will thank me.
Nat: (Hmmm....well, what if your'e my husband one day, aren't we dating?) Really, why's that Goerge?
Goerge: Because I didn't de-flower you. (I'm sorry, you didn't just use that word, did you?)
Nat: Well, Goerge (very handsome Goerge), I think my husband will thank ME.
Goerge: I have a way with women.
As though to imply he could have me should he decide to.
Goerge let me pay for meals, asked me if we should go "dutch", used God as an "out". I was overly smitten with him, apparently giving me invisible blinders to flashing "STOP" signs all about me. I knew Goerge two months. That was one month twenty nine days too long as I should have not seen him the day after we met.

And so the dilemma: The "Christian" guys aren't always so "Christian" and use God when convenient, or perhaps to impress, etc.
The "bad" guys are fun and non - judgemental. But herein lies the problem. They are "bad guys".
And then there are the "good Christian guys." The real authentic ones. The ones you are interested in. They seem to be
A. Married.
B. MIA.
C. On a dating "sabattical"
D. All of the above (well, that doesn't work but there ought to always be a D all of the above.

And so meeting "godly men" I have found is not always at church.
I happen to have a very handsome, compassionate, sweet Jewish friend who is far more moral and quite the gentlemen than some of our"church-goers". (Can one marry someone who is Jewish? Wasn't Jesus? Ya, okay....)

But they are out there. I've met them. They're there. I think as I get older what I want is authenticity more than anything. Genuine compassion for others and a desire for the Lord.
He doesn't need to know "systematic theology", or be able to quote to me Martin Luther's 95 Thesis.
He needs to love. The Lord. Me. My daughter.
I'm sure I'm often guilty of the same things our suspects our.....not all, but some....
So often I hope he just lands on my front door. The doorbell rings. He enters.
He's fun, goofy, charismatic, charming, loving, real, edgy and of course dashidly handsome!
Alarm Clock. Dreaming.
But I've found that even the most handsome can become quite unattractive and vice versa.

And so for now I won't be dating. As I'm just focusing on Annie and me.
But when I do.....
God help me....
And may he be out there (And God help him even more) (haha....sort of....)
Confession: My best friend and I have a rule. We give each other our dates numbers (safety) and then have them call an hour into the date incase we need to "escape" . "I'm terribly sorry my friend is quite ill." (Yes, we're British liars and in the 18th Century on dates...)

My Sweet Annie Boo Boos

And then one day I heard the news
That inside their beat a heart
It was the very start of you.
"Thump, thump, " I'd hear
And you were near...

Inside you grew and tossed and twirled
Still though I wasn't aware
Didn't know my Annie Boos, so fair.

And one morning
Out you came
There you were
Life never to be the same

So sweet and innocent and pure
You'd lay on me oh so small
And look at me that head brow scrunch
That only you can do

And even then I knew for sure
How very special that you were
I thought of you, I thought of me
My "extra special delivery".

And how you grow!
How time has flown!
And how my heart
For you it groans

And as I watch you when you sleep
I'll sometimes say a prayer
I'll stare at you in wonder in awe
And hope you know I'm there

But more importantly, my Boos
As you grow - and grow you will
And laugh, and play, and dance and sing
Do so in the Shadow of His Wing

For though I vow to keep you safe
I'll never take your Daddy's place
He will love you more than I
You are the apple of His eye

So Annie Boos the fun to come!
My little angel, my blessing, oh!
I'll keep you safe the best I know!
Oh sweetest little girl
Oh little girl of mine
Your tender heart makes me cry

And when one day you leave my side
And off into the world you fly
May you always keep me near
And may my heart not flow with tears

For though I know it surely will
I'll know then to just be still
And let you go and live for Him
And let you soar without a care
For you'll still know that I am there

And forever I'll be glad
That you're my precious little girl
That somehow though I didn't deserve
I got to love and shape and form
A gift,
God gave one December morn

My little Annie Boos
So very young, so pure, so true
With eyes so very soulful blue
Know this my love

I'll often whisper in your ear
I'll often say it loud and clear
Just know however it is said
Tis true
Can I make it known
How very, very, very much
I love you.

Because I think too much....

My argument against God was that the universe seemed so cruel and unjust. But how had I got this idea of just and unjust? A man does not call a line crooked unless he has some idea of a straight line. What was I comparing this universe with when I called it unjust? If the whole show was bad and senseless from A to Z, so to speak, why did I, who was supposed to be part of the show, find myself in such violent reaction against it? A man feels wet when he falls into water, because man is not a water animal: a fish would not feel wet. Of course, I could have given up my idea of justice by saying that it was nothing but a private idea of my own. But if I did that, then my argument against God collapsed too--for the argument depended on saying that the world was really unjust, not simply that it did not happen to please my private fancies. Thus in the very act of trying to prove that God did not exist--in other words, that the whole of reality was senseless--I found I was forced to assume that one part of reality--namely my idea of justice--was full of sense. Consequently atheism turns out to be too simple. If the whole universe has no meaning, we should never have found out that it has no meaning: just as, if there were no light in the universe and therefore no creatures with eyes, we should never know it was dark. Dark would be without meaning. - C.S. Lewis, Mere Christianity


And so, as it often seems, I come upon what one might call a “spiritual crisis”. Not the ones Peter had walking on water, we all surely have those . I suppose this would be more of an Eclesiastes type crisis so to speak. An “I’ve searched and searched”, an “all is meaningless” ( of course Solomon meant without God). Tonight I met with my best friend from college. We had not seen each other for awhile, and had sort of a “falling out” when we met up after eight years, but after I asked his forgiveness, he forgave me. I’ve always loved this particular friend, though we are incredibly different. Which is probably why we were close. No one wants to hang around someone like themselves, lest they be rather bored as they are with themselves quite often ( and bad a bum…..that’s my drum at the end of my joke;).
All to say he is an atheist, I’m a Christian. We both went to the same Baptist college we both acted, infact we often acted in opposite “we’re in love” roles which is a bit ironic.
With all that has happened in the last eight years if not more, and without details, but hardships that I’ve gone through…things I never would have dreamt of….the pain of life physically right now as I’m still healing from chronic pain I’ve had (the scariest thing I’ve ever dealt with) tonight I spoke with my friend about his life, about mine. What had taken place since we were eighteen, carefree and young. The trials, the ups and downs, relationships lost….
And I asked him if he was happy.
He said yes.I said that confuses me. (And it did)
I think we laughed. (I told him stop being happy!)
I asked him why he was.
He told me that from a Christian’s viewpoint I could look at it that he is in the world, and of the world, so why wouldn’t he be happy? He doesn’t have anyone to answer to so to speak…..and apparently is still “carefree”. Now I use the word carefree lightly for I never really and truly have been. I’ve always been a thinker, a performer, a people pleaser, a do-the-right thing because that’s what I knew to do. And so in college, I not only acted in plays, I performed in real life. Life was a stage and I was the lead role.
I remember one girl, who happened to be this friends ex wife telling me I seemed to “have it altogether.”
Well, she didn’t know that I was dealing with depression, a severe eating disorder. I was pacing the tracks at night weeping. Reading my Bible, praying, seeking…..that “hole” that Jesus fills in those without Him?....well, apparently my hole was still there, quite perplexing as I “knew Him”, right? So, books, theology, Bible studies, anything that would give me that “revelation” of God…of His love….that “peace that passes all understanding”
I’ll repent.I’ll praise.
I’ll encourage.
I’ll sacrifice (My, wasn’t I the martyr?;).
And so I would have to say that for the last ten years my burden has been heavy though I “tried” to let Jesus carry it, for isn’t His yoke light? Yes, yes, I knew all of this.
At school there were mostly ministry majors, then art or theatre majors. I preferred to hang out with the theatre majors, for though they were “dark”, at least in my mind they were “real.” I suppose in a way that’s me judging others, but it was what it was at the time. I thought if I were too close to the “real Christians” we’ll call them, they might catch on to what was going on the inside of me and realize (shocker) I did not have it altogether….at all.
My friend that I’m talking about here does not seem angry at God, for in his mind there is no God to be angry with. He told me if God knocked he would answer. And change his life. I asked my athiest friend to see his response….”so am I missing out?” “Is it more fun to have sex, drink a lot , not really care to some extent?” (Although he cares to some degree of course)
Surprisingly, he said no.
Then he told me religion works even as though it were a placebo. I hadn’t really ever thought of that and this disturbed me more than I let on. Is my religion a "placebo", I thought....I mean aren't there happy Buddhists, miserable Christians?
It's this whole "universal mentality" he is under. Whatever works for YOU, well, that’s Truth, right? If you’re an Athiest, you die and become dirt. If you’re a Buddhist you go to fifth dimension, a Mormon you run your own planet, a Christian and you go to Heaven. Well, if I could curse on here without feeling the need to delete it I would for that is sheer nonsense!
It’s like the ever popular book out “The Secret”. It’s all the “power of the mind”. Ok, well, question. If our mind is THAT powerful how did it get formed that way? If our brains are THAT complex, which they are....was this just happenstance?
I don’t want my God to be a “placebo”. He’s not my “prozac” so to speak. Either He exists or He does not. Period. Either there is an after life or there is not.
As Paul said he would be the biggest fool of all if Christianity were not true. We would all be quite foolish.
And so I simply will not believe God to be a “placebo”. If there is a God, which looking at the sun, (it’s amazing how it stays in place and if it were just a little bit closer to the earth we would all be burned), if you look at flowers, birds, bugs, the human mind, body, the arts, the ability to love (had to come from somewhere) I have to know that there is an Artist. There is a Creator. There is a God who “knows the stars by name”. And if I suffer here for a little while, then I identify with Christ (though I often suffer because of my own sin…dangit;). There is a verse that speaks about not envying those that don’t know God for theirs is the god of this world. I found myself envying him tonight. He is as he readily admits “of the world”. Christ said “be not of the world, but be transformed”…..And if there is a God (which I must say there is) and if He had a Son (which historically and Scripturally seems accurate) and if He came to earth as a baby, lay in a manger, served others his entire life, loved others then died the most horrible death because God loved me – God loved my friend – then all of my “envying” of the world should be gone, right? Wrong! Because I’m still human. I still have fleshly desires that “wage war within me” (see Romans Seven). I still stomp and scream inwardly when things aren’t going according to plan. I still yell at God, (I have, but I think He’s ok with that), and ask Him why and how come and tell Him how unfair life is. But He’s God. It’s like when Job questioned Him and God answered! I’m sorry Job, did you create the sea?
But see Job acknowledged that He exists. And is not the core of some of our “Christian” suffering the fact that we know and believe that there is a God? Would life in some ways be easier if I didn’t believe? Yes. If I had no God that loved me, that died for me, that cares for me, that wants me all to Himself…then I would live much differently. I would be “carefree”. I wouldn’t pray for I wouldn’t think there was an answer – Help for me or others. My problems wouldn’t be so frusterating because I wouldn’t believe in a God who could speak and my physical pain would be gone. (This could go off into a tangent about the problem of pain and God but I’ll leave that one to C.S. Lewis). But the ironic thing is: my faith allows me to be “carefree”. For, I ought to be able to rest and know that God is in control – of the evil that happens, of the good. He knows every hair on my head. He knows “when I sit and when I rise”. John Piper gave a sermon once entitled “Are you Humble Enough to Be Carefree?” Is not the very thing my friend has, a sense of “care-freeness” – the thing I envied the very thing I am told to be? Is it not freeing to love, to serve, to give, to consider others better? Is it not freeing to look around at the suffering in this world and know that it is temporary? To know that when my therapist who loves the Lord and hung himself is now free? That he doesn’t not exist, that all of his service was not all for not, but that he is in Heaven with a God that says “Well done my good and faithful servant”?
How sad would I be if there were no God. How despairing? When David became depressed he would often close in the Psalms with “Why are you downcast O my Soul? Does not God live?”!!
How sad when one day I grew old, should I make it and I lose people I love to not know they are okay.
How sad to think my little earthly self is “just a breath” and choices don’t matter. That nothing matters. For if there is no God there can be no good - no right/ no wrong. There can be no reason and purpose. And though I'm wrestling now with various things, far better to "sink with faith, than swim without it."
For how hopeless would life be without God? I wanted to fast forward - ask him what about if one day his child dies - where lies his comfort? Or wife? Where is there peace?

All of this is not directed at my friend. He knows Christianity. He cares about others. He is able to love ( I personally think we are only able to really, really love because God loved us….how else would we know of love?). And I, if I’m correct (which often I’m terribly wrong but I’m going off Scripture here so perhaps I’m safer…whew…) then my friend whom I love is wrong. And there will be a day when we stand before God. One of us is “right”. One of us is “wrong”. And looking at the sun tonight, considering the stars that hang in perfection, a rainbow, how a bird takes flight, how a fish breathes in water, how rain makes a tiny seed grow, how humans are able to love, laugh, cry…..I have to believe I’m “right”. Not in a prideful way, for there is nothing worse than a prideful believer. I think it’s kind of an oxymoron. It’s more of a humbling thing. It is, in fact, care free.

And so, Lord, might I rest knowing my sufferings are temporary. And that You came so I might have life. May I never despair completely, but always, always be reminded of You. And may my desire to love You be ever present, may You be more “real” to me than this computer I type on. May I desire pure things and love the impure. For You love me and I am definitely impure. You love the least of the least. And so in my sufferings, grant me peace. In my “deaths”, grant me Life, and in my burdens teach me to cast. For You carry an entire universe. Surely You can carry our burdens.
And for my sweet friend may he be blessed in such a way as to know You. I would never judge him, but can only say what I believe to be true just as he doesn’t judge me for believing what I believe. You love him more than anyone. And I ask that he would be Yours.

And in my “lamenting”, I am going to go to bed now for I know I’ve said too much (often I do;). And in all of my writings I often find that God teaches me. All of the things I wrote about – I’m not there so to speak. I’m not “carefree”. But I ought to be. I’ve been given the privelage. There was a Man. There was a Cross. There is a Son. There is a God. And thank God there is ;).
(It must be said that there is now a flying roach in my living room. If there is anything I hate it’s roaches. If there is anything I hate worse it’s roaches that fly. We have no bug spray so I find myself in a sticky situation. In a room with a flying roach and a bottle of furniture polish in my hand on guard. Maybe it won’t know the difference......)

Restless Nights

When I couldn't sleep one evening this poem came to me: It comforts me still though it was years ago I wrote it.

Won't You sit at my side while I fall asleep
Will You sing me a song with words ever sweet
Will You fill me with dreams full of the lovely
Won't You tell me of Jesus, how You and He love me?
Will Your light keep me warm as I fade off to sleep
Grant me trust so I might my worries not keep?
And when I arise, be still at my side
Until dusk dawns once more, Christ Jesus my Lord.