So there was all sorts of love gushing out in all directions last night.
Jeff Houghton’s final improv show at The Skinny. Super fun; awesome crowd; sentimental moments at the end. Love.
So There I Was storytelling show all about love. Cute young love; cute late-in-life love; cute unlikely love. Love.
Hanging out afterwards with friends. Conversation hearts; conversation; C-Street townie bar conversation. Love.
I’m reminded that there is LOVE all around. Love that has nothing to do with holding hands or smooches or getting flowers on February 14. (Yes, smooches.)
I’m talking friendship love. Pure and simple love for others. I’ll mine my remedial knowledge of Greek love words to conjure philos. Philadelphia love, right? Brotherly. Sisterly.
Here’s how things went down: after the lovely evening noted above, we’re all walking back to our cars and discover that the Houghtons have been towed. (Note to all SGF drivers: never, ever park in the lot across from Lindbergh’s on Commercial. They will tow you. They are bastard-people.)
So I offered to drive them to wherever you go to retrieve towed cars (this was my first experience). Because, why not. More time to hang with the Houghtons. It’s after 1:30 at this point (because we had so much fun, right!) so obviously no one is working the tow lot. So we make it to West Division and wait. And wait. And wait. And get questioned by a cop. And wait.
Finally this tow truck arrives. And long story short, it was just a nightmare customer service moment from hell. Dude wasn’t going to let them have the car. Apparently thieves have gotten very crafty in their having-of-the-keys and showing-up-at-two-in-the-morning to try to steal cars from tow lots. This guy was just unnecessarily sticking to The Law–which according to Mr. Crazypants means you have to show proof of ownership (besides your very presence and possession of keys) to get your car back. What?!
So it was just a hot mess. It turned out okay. They got their car eventually. But it was unnecessarily difficult. A shitty end to a super night.
But. Believe it or not, I got something good out of it:
Cuckoo as it sounds, that’s the closest I’ve felt to God in a long time.
Hold on. I’ll explain. Remember how I talked about Youth Ministries Me yesterday? Well, there’s a whole lot of story between me then & me now. I could write for days. Maybe that can be my next two-week assignment. Writing about love has certainly kept me busy…writing about faith could do the same.
And it does sound cuckoo. Trust me, I know. But sitting in the car at 2:30something last night…I think I actually prayed. Prayed, you guys.
Just hoping with my entire being that things would be okay for my friends. My friends who really didn’t need something to go so absurdly wrong for them, and one guy who really seemed hell-bent on not giving them a break.
Because what is prayer besides hoping with your entire being for good?
I believe with all my heart that if we can connect with God at all, it’s in those moments of finding the sacred in the simple. Whether that happens in Communion or at a car tow lot…I don’t think it matters. God’s not necessarily found through reading words or going to a service or abstaining from sex or feeling guilty or being afraid or any of those things I grew up believing.
God is found in loving each other. That’s the only, only place.
So. To celebrate that, I remembered this. Two lovely, talented friends Brandon Goodwin & Frank Chimero made this music video a couple of years ago. (Made it. Like, for real stop-motion felt & all.) Enjoy.
And watch for RoboCop.