This is perfect New York

One of the things I love most about New York is that you never know when you are going to stumble into a great evening. Tonight I set out for a run/walk, planning on my normal route around the streets of the Upper East Side. It was a really nice night and still early enough to be safe, so I changed my route and ventured to Central Park. I headed up to the Reservoir and was taken aback by the beauty of the scene in front of me. It was still daylight, but the sun was starting to set, making the sky a gorgeous mix of pinks and blues. The water was quiet, as always, and the birds sat perched all in a row along the "sand bar" in the middle.

It was such a tranquil scene, I might have forgotten that I was in the middle of the "city that never sleeps." But then there was the skyline...ahh, that Manhattan skyline that never lets you down. I ran/walked around the reservoir with my fellow New Yorkers - some old, some young, some fast, some slow, some alone, some in little support groups, some fit, some...not-so-fit, some wearing sweatshirts and black knee socks, some wearing very little spandex - and admired the juxtaposition of acres and acres of water and trees right alongside the sparkling, towering buildings.

But the lovely evening was only beginning. After my loop around the Reservoir, as I was walking back to my apartment, I happened upon the Metropolitan Opera's performance of Rigoletto in the park. I planned to keep walking, but like the Pied Piper, the music lured me to sit down. Now, I don't claim to be any type of opera aficianado, but the music was just beautiful...the kind of music that fills your soul and transports you to another world. For the second time in a matter of minutes, I found myself in disbelief that I was still in New York. I guess that's one of the great things about this city...it's a million worlds, a million places you'll never go, all wrapped into one tiny 13-mile island.

As I sat by myself (don't get sad for me, I only stayed for 15 minutes or so:)), I partook in one of my favorite New York activities - people-watching. Right in front of me was a cute couple with a picnic and bottle of wine who were clearly very much in love. To my left was a group of kids running around with the little neon glow rings that you get at the Stone Mountain laser show. To my right was a group of three middle-aged women who appeared to be still single and still very fabulous. And behind me was a row of elderly couples who probably had been coming to the opera in the park for decades...and who knew to get there early enough to snag seats on the benches so they didn't have to sit on the ground. I could go on and on...person after person, couple after couple, child after child, friend after friend who were brought together by this grand city and a Verdi opera. It just doesn't get any better than that.

"Anyone who lives in New York knows that this is perfect New York." Annie Leibovitz
:)

Influence

The word of the day at church yesterday was Influence. The pastor discussed a very cool verse that I’d never really considered, John 1:40-42: “Andrew, Simon Peter’s brother, was one of the two who heard what John had said and who had followed Jesus. The first thing Andrew did was to find his brother Simon and tell him, ‘We have found the Messiah’ (that is, the Christ). And he brought him to Jesus.”

Growing up in church, you read and learn about Peter all the time...how he walked on water, how he denied Christ, how his message at Pentecost helped lead 3,000 people to salvation in a day, and how ultimately he was the Rock who helped start the Church. But how much do you ever really hear about Andrew? I venture to say not much, aside from the fact that he was a disciple and was Peter's brother. How amazing is it, though, to think that Andrew was directly responsible for bringing Peter to the Lord? Andrew stepped out in faith and influenced all of history in a big way...he called out to Peter, Peter preached to thousands, and those thousands started the CHURCH.

Pastor Aaron tied the story of Andrew and Peter to a challenge. He asked us to think: What if Andrew had not told his brother about the Messiah? What if he had just kept the Good News to himself and minded his own business in the bubble of his own little world? What if...

Now fast-forward 2,000 years. Here I am in my own little world in New York City...how will I use the opportunities and relationships I've been given to best have an influence for the Lord? Who will I be an Andrew to? So often I am tempted to think that I live in a vacuum...that my actions and decisions have no significant bearing on the world around me or, greater still, eternity. But that is so not the case. Every word I say, every decision I make, every minute that goes by is a chance to have some type of influence on the world around me. It's up to me what that influence will be - will I be an encouragement or a discouragement? Will I show love or indifference? Will I be selfless or selfish? Will I listen or will I ignore? Will I display grace or will I judge? Either way, my actions will make an imprint on those around me. The real issue is, is it an imprint that brings them closer to the Lord or drives them further away?

I know that I am the person I am today because of the people who directly influenced my life...my family, my friends, pastors, mentors, teachers, coworkers, authors, songwriters. The list is a mile long of the Andrews who have influenced me and whose lives have had a direct bearing on the story of my life. So whose story will I be a part of? When it's all said and done, will any lives be different because of me? Will even one person in New York or anywhere else part ways with me knowing Jesus a little more closely? Will I be willing to be used by God have a hand in the story of someone's salvation? That, my friends, is the question of Influence.

Only in New York #1: Dancing Man

Hello out there, and welcome to the first installment of what I like to call "Only in New York."

So I'm riding home on the 3 train when a nice young man (hereafter: Dancing Man) calls out for our car's attention. Standing in the open area near the door, he turns on his boom box (haven't heard that term in a while, have you?) and starts bopping to the music. The bops turn into full-out hip hop steps and spins...but watch out, he's just getting started. Dancing Man then proceeds to hold himself up on a vertical pole and spin around with his legs in the air. He then grabs on to the bar on the ceiling of the car (picture someone doing a chin-up) and does some cool moves there. The final portion of the dance involves him hanging on the ceiling pole by his feet and kind of half-dancing, half-flailing-like-a-fish-out-of-water to finish up the routine. It was very You Got Served meets Rent meets Carmen Electra's Fit to Strip.

Once he's finished, Dancing Man yells out to the car "Can I get a hand?" At first, I actually thought he said "Can I get a hey?" and was expecting an Italian chef style "HEY!" from the crowd, which is why I personally didn't respond. Perhaps the rest of the car thought the same thing that I did, because there was just silence. Birds chirping silence. Everyone just stared at him in utter and complete silence (awkward!). Dancing Man yells back in anger, "FINE! Don't even bother to clap. And don't think I did this for your money, either, because I don't need your money." Riiggghhhht...

He was kind enough to offer a public service annoucement after yelling at us, though. "Children, don't try this at home or on the subway or bus. And ladies, if your man can't do this, leave him." Good advice. I'm now screening guys with the following questionnaire: 1. Do you love Jesus? 2. Do you have a job? 3. Can you hip-hop dance with a pole on the 3 train?

Dancing Man snatched up his boom box and got off at 72nd Street. As the door shut, the entire train burst into laughter. One woman said loudly, "I thought at least one person would clap!" As I giggled, the guy sitting across from me looks at me and says, "You know? That's the fourth time I've seen that guy. He always has new sneakers on."

Only in New York.

Summer Fridays

So New York City advertising agencies have this amazing concept called "Summer Fridays." Basically, we get a handful of freebie holidays Jun-Aug - fabulous, right? I suppose we're spoiled...not only do we get to live in the greatest city in the world, but we get a few extra days off to go out and enjoy the 110 heat index weather. :) Such was the case this weekend.

I kicked off my three-day weekend with a trip to Jones Beach for Counting Crows and Goo Goo Dolls. The concert was amazing, despite a New Jersey weirdo in front of us who, with his #11 jersey, spot-on ability to sing every word of Black Balloon, and killer dance moves, looked more like he belonged in PCB for Spring Break '97 than there at the concert with us. Friday was a lovely lazy day followed by an evening of JG Melon, icees from 7-11 and Miami Vice. (Note: Unless you have a Y chromosome, I do not recommend the movie. Guns + blood + shaggy, bad-American-accent-Colin-Farrell + random "shower" scenes + boats + cars = GUY movie. Ladies, your time is better spent going to see Devil Wears Prada. Again.) Yesterday we piled in Bryan's car - my first time in a non-yellow car in almost two months - and spent the entire day/night out at Randall's Island for a Dave Matthews concert. It was definitely a fine New York moment to be with friends, dancing and singing to Dave, filthy dirty from the billowing dust, with the Manhattan skyline as the backdrop. All in all, a great long weekend in the city.

"Taste and see that the Lord is good; blessed is the man who takes refuge in him." Psalm 34:8