My very Keene afternoon.

I'm going doublesies today on the entries, but it's just too good.

Last week, I emailed James River for an appointment to talk with someone about the meanings and implications of Salvation. As I explained in that email, I could go for the altar call to get it all settled, but there are two problems with that. Firstly, I assume that altar calls normally end in conversions, and I don't want to disappoint any eager altar call-ists. No one wants the ear-full I'm giving without advanced notice. Secondly, there could be a fire under my chair, and I'd still likely stay put.

So office visit, it is.

Then last night happened. Now, I love the individuals in my Life Group. They are nice, and sincere, and wonderful people. But they make Sam Brownback look like a liberal pansy.

Also, I could hear them talking in the kitchen about my not being a Christian. And I remembered...you're a number. Whether or not it's true, I felt it, and it stung. I'm so tired of being the project. I'm not an idiot. I'm not intellectually inferior. My arguments are no less thought out than theirs. And guess what? I'm not an anomaly! Non-Christians can be brilliant, compassionate, and wonderful people! They're not necessarily the world's worst sinners, and they have a lot of wisdom for the Christian and non-Christian alike. Do not approach them assuming you know better. There's nothing Godly about arrogance.

Like I should talk about arrogance... I'm putting away the soapbox.

So last night, I had decided to nix this noise, and take a break. Then I remembered that I had this impending appointment. Crap! What Southern manners I've picked up in ten weeks told me that I couldn't cancel on such short notice. Everything else in me told me that this was going to be disastrous for my already fragile dealings with the Christian church.

I'm gonna skip the segue, and just say that Tim Keene is amazing. LOVE him. He should be one of Oprah's new favorite things. Paisley tops. Saltwater taffy. Calypso music. And JRA's Tim Keene. And being from Chicago, Oprah ranks. I mean, come on, she's the king-maker, if you know what I'm sayin'.... But Tim Keene.

I was really on-guard against some the maneuvers of these conversations. But he wasn't like that. No cheap tricks. He's clearly conservative, theologically, and I don't know that I agree with everything he had to say. But he was sincere, and caring, and I didn't feel like a project in his presence. It feels good to have honest conversations with Christians, no strings.

I recognize that I've just said something very complex. What makes the difference between Tim, who was admittedly trying to hash out with me the finer points of salvation, and my Life Group-ers, who were doing the same? What does it mean to say no strings? I cannot expect Christians to not want to "convert" me, if in fact they care enough to want something good for me. But...there's just something there, something more. It's about respect, I think. I felt respected by Tim. There didn't seem to be any whispering in the recesses of his mind. And he seemed to feel no need to change my mind on the spot--actually, he seemed to trust more that the Lord would take care of that. We had an honest and open exchange. I walked away feeling happy, and understood. Bullet dodged! Also, lesson learned--in the event that I should join up here, I'd do well to emulate that man.

Now here's the more interesting part. As we talked, we were joined by Molly, a very nice woman doing some sort of internship (apparently an intern of coolness, as she was hanging with Tim). So we're talking, we're talking...salvation, Christ, bible, divine inspiration, yackety-yak. And then she says, "Wait, I know you! I read your blog!" To which I nearly swallow my own tongue. Someone aside from Kristen reads my blog? Yes, someone aside from Kristen reads my blog.

Apparently, and I didn't fully understand this part, Evangel students, in an effort to stay current to the issues of those "outside the fold," somehow discovered this blog, and I guess it made a little round. That's terrifying. I assume that means that at least ten people have read it, which means that there are now ten more people in Springfield who know that I can be a confused, sometimes prejudiced, arrogant, and indecisive seeker. Also, the cat's out of the bag on drugs, sex, and rock & roll.

Now, Molly and Tim are both convinced, at this point in the meeting, that this is a complete "God thing." Afterall, what are the chances of this once-a-year shadowing experience, and Molly was supposed to do this last Monday, and of all the people who read the blog, on and on. And I don't know about any of that. But I do know that there's something going on here. I feel confident, and not outside the bounds of reason, in suggesting that this church is special.

As I've written previously, it is often the case that as you move deeper into a church, the less rosy the picture becomes. That's not true at James River--it just keeps getting better. People should line up for internships of coolness with the likes of Tim Keene and John Lindell.