So after arriving at The Rock Cafe in Kent and discovering it hadn't yet opened, I walked around looking for some cheap place to eat. I asked a coupla locals for directions to the nearest fast food joint. When they told me I'd have to walk about a mile I quickly lost interest and settled for one of the closer sit-and-wait-a-while restaurants they also suggested just a coupla blocks away.

I ended up at Ray's. It just seemed like a place I could trust, ya know? And the prices were reasonable. Still I ordered a burger anyway (Bleu Cow) with a side of applesauce (instead of fries). I had to wait long enough that I could've walked to the fast food joint and half way back. I know passing up on the walk to eat a fat greasy burger anyway sounds like a bad decision, but the side item and the wait (for the cook to squeeze out all the fat, I guess) made eating at Ray's really the healthier choice, right? Well... in my mind it does. The meal was filling.

After the late lunch, I walked a coupla blocks back to where I was before and waited for the Rock to open. While I waited, a jr. high-aged kid came up and chatted with me. He told me that he had just moved to Kent from Iowa and he's been coming to the Rock regularly since. Talking to him gave me a feel of the place and I made my set list with a young audience in mind.

After opening, I noticed a few college-aged folks come in. I prepared for the show and was on stage shortly afterwards. I was hoping for an intimate evening with a listening audience, but as I looked out from the stage I saw kids gaming on a computer, adults were chattering around the coffee bar way on the opposite end, and most of the young adults I notice earlier were leaving since they were done with their meeting in another part of the building. This was all in the first 20 minutes and after I begged and pleaded for folks to come closer to the stage. I know, I'm pathetic. I'm an artist dangit! I just wanna be heard. ;-( At that point I felt I should've played cover songs instead of pouring my heart out through my original material, or had some bronze paint ready to go (see NYC subway blog), but I press on with my initial set. Eventually a young couple sat down two tables away from stage. I could tell it was out of pity. A few songs later they looked as if they wanted to be there. They did end up leaving later, probably for another obligation. I was satisfied from that time through the end of the show, even after they left in the middle of it. I was heard.

Rewinding a bit, individuals on the opposite end of the building were peeping around corners and looking over shoulders at me, I noticed. Maybe they were listening if only for a few seconds. Also, a few others made their way closer to the stage but still far enough to hold conversations with each other. I wasn't gonna be happy till I got someone's undivided attention. Am I that bad? Is this what "the really bad" means? What is in us that desires others to hear us out? Or is it just me?

To my surprise, a few folks trickled up to the stage after I was done, wanting to buy my music. And get this, after talking with some, I was asked to go back up and play more of my music. Though I was a little tired, I was honored to do so. Seeing that most of them were majority adults, I played an unscripted "mature" set. They were listening and they wanted more! (Or maybe they were partially listening before and wanted to listen good this time.) This time there were people up close, listening, and requesting MY songs (some remember them from myspace and from when I auditioned for staff members Andy and Courtney many weeks before, I later learned).

After fellowship with Paul, Mark, and others, I sold a few more CDs and left The Rock Cafe to eat some Papa John's Pizza at the home of Andy and his wife Crystal. They had a soft spare bed and warm shower waiting for me, too. Shout out to Christopher Robin and the other kitty cat. Sorry I forgot your name, dude.

The next morning, before heading out on Greyhound, the young couple invited me to Walk the Walk, an independent fundraiser prayer walk for the Pro-Life agenda and counseling for women. So, even though I avoided walking a mile for my own belly's sake the day before, God set it up to where I would walk two miles (with no hesitation or complaints) for many bellies' sake. Blessed be the name of the LORD.

Lesson:
Not my will. Not my way. Not my timing. It's not about me. God is in control.