My Own Skin

Study at Starbucks 

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This morning I thought about TV and Italy as I drank my Iced Venti 5 shot Americano with a smidge of whole milk at my local Starbucks.  Some have often wondered why I do this every morning. James, in fact, used to get irate that I would -- but in the macrovision of this tale -- Starbucks has been part of its very foundation.  It isn't out of tradition I drink my coffee there, but rather out of a space in which to work and be worked on, or as today proved, worked through.  Undeniably it is a place for meeting people of all kinds, and just in my story alone, proves you never know who, what or how is behind any of your everyday experiences, except this one notion:  God.

Since coming to Christ, I realized I have not watched television.  Not that I have anything against it, but rather I simply don't have the time and there is no longer a need for me in this season to be distracted.  While the Lord's wrecking ball utterly began to destroy everything of my former self, I lost my cable, and for that I didn't flinch.  Quite frankly, with the borrowed time I had after James and I broke up, even then I did not watch it.

Sweet Genius

My family loves to watch reality cooking shows and even in something so simple as this, I could no longer stand to watch it. How ridiculous is it that people offer themselves up to this judge or a panel of judges, after, in a time constraint, must a perfect something, and be made out of ridiculous ingredients, all under the guise of creativity? And then this guy decides who wins or loses--it's absurd.  All the while, the viewer sits there, watching life happen, rather than participating in it.   I recently met a woman addicted to Reality Television.  A wave of layoffs at work led her to fear losing not her home, her car, but first and foremost, her cable -- which rightly led her to seek help.

There is no level of frivolous to addiction and the shadow of a promise of having more, being made happy or even being better than, whatever. Shoes, shopping, sex, drugs or rock 'n roll.  Pick your poison, as the saying goes.

The eye, we all know, is the window to the soul.  The eye is everywhere in the Bible, and with good reason.  Think about it folks:  As we watch our TVs we have a mute button, but there is no button to eradicate the vision but keep the sound.  In light of visual addictions, folks, let's be honest, and go after the fastest growing addiction on this planet - one that confounds scientists because it is literally rewiring the brain:  Would you be addicted to simply listening to porn?  I think not.

A few short weeks into living in Italy, I remember sitting on the 7th floor of the highrise by the Esselunga (a grocery store where old women will run you over on the pasta aisle).  I was with my then boyfriend's flatmates, and we watched the traffic pass.  Yes, you read that correctly.  In such a city as Florence, Italy, we dealt with not having a television by sitting down to watch traffic.

I have described living in Florence as the happiest years of my life. With that memory, I realized it was the last time (while in Italy) that I desired to watch television at all.  I was far too busy living, growing -- having the best time of my life.  It wasn't until tragedy struck that I needed to watch TV:  September 11, 2001.

I remember walking to school and everyone, no matter their nationality, looked dazed and confused, people crying on the streets.  It wasn't until I got to school and walked into the cafeteria, a yellow room about the size of an American master bathroom, grey and heavy with cigarette smoke, wet with tears and packed with American students, weighed down in a panicky grief.   The majority of them were fresh from NYC-- having only been in Italy since late August, adn there they stood, seeing images of the second plane fly into the tower. That was the singular time I can recall ever hearing CNN in Italian.  Not speaking the language, I translated for them.

The picture of the Bibile above was taken the day after the first time the Lord ever woke me, mentioned in my testimony.  Not knowing anything of the Bible, other than what I knew from Art History, I opened to Romans, one of the thirteen books written by Paul.  This was a man, previously known as Saul, the most ardent persecutor of Christians, who literally sought them out to kill them in droves.  Yet here --here-- he's talking about his absolute longing to go where?  To Rome.

The day before I gave my heart to Christ, I realized why I could no longer paint:  Florence.  I held onto Italy so tightly, it paralyzed the very reason I went there.  It was killing me and it hurt, especially because I had been trying for a decade to make my dream a reality and go back.   In that letter, the most beautiful piece of prose I've ever written, I gave up ever seeing Italy again.  I simply let it go.

What I know now is that was God, getting ready to pick up my heart.  Like Paul, and anyone who comes to Him, a new heart is given, and each one beats with its own passions, talents, and purpose.

That was the first peek the Lord gave me into the path He has for me, that He will give me my heart's desire, and like my daughter's namesake, Amelie, I melted into a humble puddle before the Lord in awe of his master plan and care for me.

And today, years later, today I did business with God.  Today I thought about TV and Italy.  Today I thought about how, in the last 48 hours, not even a wink of time --that was both hard and mind blowing-- carried with it a drama that couldn't be portrayed even in one minute of the First 48.

I have wrestled with what a calling is. I have wrestled with how to best learn, to trust the Lord and His timing, His provision, His way for me.  I have wrestled with the approval of others, fear of man, doubt and fear in general, convicted of superficial prayer, and the moment I p.r.a.y.e.d and loved Jesus, dirty with a face full of tears, mascara, and snot bubbles, He showed me bam! bam!! bam!!!, in every way I asked Him to show me, that He is listening.

And to my dear friend Carone, I thank you for listening to me this week, and for allowing me to tell you now, the Lord was there, listening to us both, because where two or more are gathered, so is He.

I dedicate this post to you and thank you for bringing this video to our attention.