cliche.

Right now, I'm sitting in a coffee shop in Dallas. It's in an old house, every room is full of vintage couches and arm chairs, and the playlist is a Who's Who of indie sonsters: The Decemberists, Sufjan Stevens, Frou Frou, et cetera. Atop every table sits a Mac Book Pro, including the very laptop I'm borrowing right now, and I feel a bit out of place with no chai tea latte in my hand and no worn-out Toms on my feet.

It's the kind of place that hosts open mic nights and allows frequent fliers to post their homemade art on the walls in hopes of a big sell.

So, yes, this is a hipster cliche. But while I was amused when I first walked in, I'm falling more and more in love the longer I sit here. The more I gaze around at my coffee house comrades, the more Bibles I see accompanying the Macs, and the more I listen, the more I hear people my age discussing their spiritual lives with the person next to them. Immediately, I am in love and inspired. The greatest thing of all: the majority of the people around me are guys. This isn't awesome because I'm single (hello, I don't need a Dallas boyfriend). It's awesome because there are few things in life more touching than a man with a heart for God. I think it's so easy for women, more emotional and in touch with their feelings by nature, to talk about "what the Lord's doing" in their life and tell their friend they're praying for them. But a man who talks this way, who lives it out loud, seems like a much greater feat indeed.

I'm reading The Screwtape Letters-- in between blog posts-- because I left my book (Charles Martin's "Chasing Fireflies") at home, and Clay loaned me the C.S. Lewis classic. Just five chapters (letters) in, I'm obsessed. C.S. Lewis, you win again. You always do.