A Lovely Portland Sunday

Sundays are beautiful. Sundays are about lazily opening my eyes and not worrying about when I have to go to work because I have been mercifully granted Sundays off. I meander down the stairs and brew a fresh french press of locally roasted coffee that I bought at a local market, New Seasons, just down the street from my house. I savor my coffee and my lovely greek yogurt with fresh granola and berries—a beautiful start. I get dressed and walk the 15 minutes to church.

Door of Hope is a life-giving place, it says it all in the name. I stop in a few minutes before the service starts so that I can be sure to grab a funky mug off the wall and fill it with a cup of the locally brewed coffee served at church. I find a comfy chair amongst the milieu of mismatched, eclectic chairs and people. The music starts: this includes a piano, a flute, a mandolin, two guitars, and a ginger-bearded singer with new songs to share written from his heart to worship the Lord. It is a beautiful cacophony of song as we all attempt to join in and sing along. I look up to see arched windows with fairy lights and wooden paintings all around: the beauty of human creation as the souls around me cry out to God. I am overwhelmed. Then the scruffy-bearded, tattooed, ex-rock musician of a pastor ascends the stage and begins to share with us. He shares that his road to faith was long and rocky and what made the difference and opened his heart was story. He talked about reading C.S. Lewis' Mere Christianity and G.K. Chesterton's Orthodoxy. He spoke of deep spiritual classics like A.W. Tozer's Knowledge of the Holy and Bunyan's The Pilgrim's Progress. Josh spoke of the deep things he felt and learned by reading Lewis' Space Trilogy. All of these books are the stories on my heart, the books that shaped me, I love this. He went on to speak of the fact that story moves us, this is why Jesus taught through stories and parables. The things

shared were all things I had heard before, but meant so much and moved so deep. I want an open and fertile heart to the story of God and to let my life be a compelling story. I left reeling from the beauty of the music and the message which spoke to me so deeply. I wandered home in the afternoon sun and took a circuitous route to ponder the things said and enjoy the beautiful day. 

I walk up Williams Street, two streets over from my house, a street with many shops and restaurants that is always bustling on a Sunday. I watched the couples and families and friends out to brunch chatting and laughing happily together and enjoying delicious new foods. I notice a bit of the street blocked off, so as a nosy wanderer I decide to see what the commotion is about, it seems to be a film set, not sure what they are filming so close to my house, but rumor has it Grimm and Portlandia are doing some things about town, I wonder if it could be one of them?

I walk up the stairs and into a rarely empty house all to myself. I do some dishes that have been sitting, clear out some space and decide to sit for a bit with my thoughts in my cozy upstairs room with all of its familiar items that made their way up to Oregon with me. It is all new here in Portland, but there are still bits of the familiar in this room, I like that.

That top, right window looks like the perfect room, does it not?

Glamorous roommates at Portland Prom.

Rommates: Me, Alina, Josiah

I decide it is too beautiful a day to stay cooped up inside so I once again venture forth out the front door. This time I head the other direction, toward the vibrant fun of Mississippi Avenue. I decide to head to a popular local chain called Blue Star Doughnut and indulge in a Matcha Green Tea doughnut, I know it sounds strange, but trust me, it is delightful! Then I decide it is time to sit for a bit with my book, A Moveable Feast by Hemingway, and dream about wandering Paris with Hemingway and Gertrude Stein and the Fitzgeralds. I stop at Fresh Pot cafe a little up the road, grab a latte and sit on the bustling street with my book and my coffee. I stop reading every now and again to watch a dog walking his owner down the street, or folks window shopping and checking out the funky, vintage-y wares along Mississippi. I finish my coffee and decide it is time for more wandering. I happen upon a fantastic little bookshop, Another Read Through, complete with overflowing shelves of used books, a stairway up with bookish quotations painted on, and overstuffed chairs upstairs to stop and read a bit, I love it!

After an hour or so, I leave with a little local purchase, and continue my wandering. I see that there is a so-called “ Mac n' Cheesery” next door that I will certainly be returning to try, but I am not hungry enough just now, but I am very intrigued. I continue walking until I discover the holy grail: Mississippi Records. This is a very out-of-the-way record store, and a rather small one at that, but inside they have a wealth of obscure folk, country, soul, rock, and a whole lot of punk records. The proprietors are friendly, but not in-your-face, so they allow me the space to peruse, and peruse I do! There is so much good stuff from Dylan to Cash to Miles Davis to Fugazi to every good thing. But after a good while of perusing, I decide that I have spent enough money today (also, they only take cash, and I have none...) so I make my way home through the back streets of old houses and lovely gardens of the Alberta Arts District. Yep, I like it here.

What a happy lazy, beautiful Sunday I have had. I like Sundays. Portland has so much to offer me, and I have only hit the tip of the iceberg. I love sharing it with you, my readerly friend.