Heavy stuff.

I'm sitting at a bakery/coffee shop downtown, supposedly working on a mega-huge paper that I have coming up. Luckily, Malorie and I are tag-teaming the assignment (not that we're doing the same paper so much as we're keeping each other accountable for actually putting work into it), or else Sunday night I'd be hunched down in the living floor, papers sprawled around me, working frantically.

So, I'm in this coffee shop... and a man walks in. Late sixties, probably, with one of the deepest voices I've ever heard. His hair is frazzled in a very crazy-old-professor manner, and under his Members Only windbreaker he's sporting a dress shirt and tie. He orders his coffee, today's special, and goes on to talk to the little barista who seems to know him well. He talks about his life and times at Auburn, how he knew the people that buildings are now named after, how the barista's jewelry (a fleur-de-lis) is also a symbol of the Boy Scouts of America, his ever-changing relationship with God including the Catholic study Bible he keeps by his bed... anything that came to his mind, he shared. The barista was incredibly kind and patient, complimenting his wealth of knowledge, never patronizing him or giving impatient nods. But it was terrifying and heartbreaking to me. He seemed lonely, befriending a college girl at a local bakery.

Lately, the idea of getting old... of dying... scares me to death. And for no reason, because I know in Whom I have believed, and I know that life everlasting is mine. And yet, lately I'm plagued with a thousand "What if's?" What if the end is just that: the end...? What if for a moment in time I'm stuck in some sort of limbo between life and death? What if it's painful? What if I'm wrong? And in my heart of hearts, I know. I know I'm not wrong. I know that my Savior lives and has redeemed me from the death that I deserve. But sometimes doubt gets ahold of my spirit, and I can hardly breathe.

I think it's just this time of the year, when I'm feeling so suffocated by schoolwork. I don't have time to sit down with God, and my life is so noisy I can't hear His voice through all the chaos.

This is not where I thought I'd be when I started typing this post. This man, this poor coffee shop man, just made me so sad. The thought of being so lonely rocks me to the core.

No worries, though. I just purchased an extra large slice of blackberry jam cake, and my soul is about to soar.