Thursday Mornings with Roger

In the early days, we met at Starbucks. We'd get up at some ungodly hour, sip coffee, and talk. Frankly, the conversation had no rhyme or reason - just whatever was on our minds. Often, we'd step out of the Starbucks and join the geriatric crowd as they strolled along in the massive empty mall in which the Starbucks was located. On nice days we'd even go outside, and encircle the big, strangely built metropolitan mall located between State Line and Ward Parkway in Kansas City.

Sometimes the conversation was very spiritual - often we'd even drive to a nearby park or walk to one of the many isolated corners of the mall and pray together. But usually, the tone of our conversation was simply about life - sometimes life as two Christian men trying to be light in our world... and sometimes just two guys trying to maintain their sanity in the midst of a busy, overtaxing, meat-grinder kind of world. On any given week, it might be me or Roger (or both) who needed to talk - you know, just sort of unload all the junk stored up in our heart to a caring friend with a listening ear. Confession of sin... griping about something or someone... sharing a victory or key family event... any number of things could potentially set the tone of our mornings together.

Always, however, our mornings tended to revolve around two primary things: God's holiness and good coffee. Everything else may have randomly fallen together, but those two topics provided our conversations with a liturgical order and purpose. That is to say, we always enjoyed a great cup (or more) of steaming hot coffee, and inevitably the conversation always found its way to the personal, profound - albeit sometimes frustrating - grace of Jesus Christ, and the various ways He continually weaves it into our lives as imperfect, yet willing disciples.

After a couple of years at Starbucks, another option presented itself to us, which deepened our commitment to Thursday mornings together - Panera Bread became our new place to meet and talk and pray and laugh and cry. And our new location gave us three very important new motivators to get our butts out of bed on any given Thursday morning: (1) A private booth way back in a corner of the store... right next to the fireplace; (2) free online access (personal gripe: why in the world doesn't Starbucks have this?); and (3) Way-awesome breakfast! Wow, how I miss those bacon and spinach souffles. I admit, the coffee wasn't exactly Starbucks, but what the heck, we found a new home (church?), and it was almost heaven. The wonderfully-aromatic, most comfortable place on the planet (aka, Panera) became our weekly home away from home for the next couple of years.

But then I graduated and moved to Washington State. That's it, no more Thursday mornings with Roger. No more accountability. No more sounding board. No more prayer partner. No more fellow laborer in Christ to just whine to and be encouraged by. No more bacon and spinach souffles. No more iron sharpens iron. No more conversations about the emerging church, pastoral ministry, adoption (as in, Roger is in the midst of adopting a child internationally), parenthood, photography, and whatever else may have been going on in our lives at the time.

Oh, we've tried, and will continue to try other options like video chat... but it's just not the same without all the human and environmental trappings like eye contact, coffee aroma, guys washing the windows in the background (hey, it was part of the morning ritual), and Anna... our favorite waitress who knew us by name and always gave us the best looking souffles.

Lord, please send me another friend. Perhaps no one will ever be like Roger... and no other place will be like Panera... but send me a friend whom I can trust with my deepest secrets and fears... and someone to celebrate my victories with. Someone who'll listen to my stupid ideas without laughing at me (too much). Someone who will pray for me, confront me when necessary, and be my friend even when I don't deserve it. Someone I can laugh with, cry with, occasionally argue with, and always appreciate. Oh ya, and Lord... please send someone like that for Roger too. (Or just make it easy on all of us and Send Roger to the Pacific Northwest)! Amen.