Where’s MY Green Light? by Katherine RyanOctober 13, 2020
Military Brat by JP QuianzonOctober 16, 2020
“Oh my, we’re out of coffee!”
“Okay, I’ll walk down to Starbucks before our guests arrive,” replied my husband.
“Thank you, Sweetheart,” I said with a smile.
Ten minutes later, he returned with one pound of dark roast coffee. We delighted in the fact that several Starbucks coffee shops were less than a quarter-mile from our front door in Washington, District of Columbia. And all the different places we have lived – the Atlantic coast, the Pacific coast, the Gulf of Mexico, and now the Mediterranean coast – have only convinced me that I am an urbanite.
Urbanite – What Is It?
Urbanite? What does that mean? Simply put, a person who prefers city living to any other kind of living. Some time ago, I read that an urbanite is a person who lives in one of the major cities in the world and possesses the following six characteristics: time-poor, city-proud, media-literate, brand-centric, trend-sensitive, and culturally-aware. I admit that I do possess several, if not all, of the attributes of an urbanite. For example, I am culturally aware: I am sensitive to the similarities and differences between different cultures – within the United States and around the world.
When my husband and I lived in Guanajuato, Gto., Mexico, I learned an essential truth about myself. I vividly remember it being a chilly Monday morning. And that morning, I had several errands to do, so I decided to take the bus into town: about a twenty-five-minute ride. A simple plan ~ so I thought!
As I walked down the narrow, twisting road from my house to the bus stop, I came upon a pack of feral dogs. I hesitated. The dogs hesitated. There was no one to help me if the dogs were to attack. For a moment, I considered jumping into the thick brush on the side of the road. But I reminded myself that bushes have bugs. I hate bugs. So, I thought about running back up the road to my compound. Logic kicked-in, again. It was impractical to believe that I could outrun a pack of dogs, going uphill, wearing high heels. The only other option was to take authority over the situation – and I did. I stared back at those dogs with an intense “don’t mess with me” attitude. It worked! The feral dogs skulked past me.
Power of the Lord
I felt smug over my moment of triumph, as I continued down the path. I made the last turn in the road toward the bus stop. Then I froze in my tracks, unable to move for what seemed like an eternity. I tried to wrap my brain around the sight before me, but I couldn’t because it made no sense. Suddenly, I had the presence of mind to quietly, but quickly, run up the hill. Yes, I ran uphill in high heels with incredible speed: the power of the Lord must have been on me, as it was on Elijah when he outran Ahab’s chariots. (See I Kings 18:46.)
I gasped for air as I reached my house, I dug in my purse for my keys, my heart raced violently, and my hands shook uncontrollably. Finally, I managed to open the enormous wooden doors and flung them wide open. I raced over to the big black Ford Excursion: jumped inside, locked the doors, and turned on the ignition. With my eyes closed, I listened to the comforting sounds of the engine. Then I said aloud to myself, “A pack of feral dogs is one thing, but an unattended, unrestrained, one-thousand-eight-hundred-pound breathing bull with pointy horns eating grass at the bus stop is quite another matter.”
That day I learned beyond a shadow of a doubt that I am what I am – it was a beautiful moment of self-acceptance.
Loretta Huggins, born and raised in San Francisco, CA, has served in the ministry with her husband, Larry Huggins since 1989: administrator, hostess, event planner, and teacher. She has traveled to eighteen countries. She is the co-founder and co-pastor of ZChurch.