This is what dreams are made of...

After young adults service, my brand spanking new friends and I go to Boston Pizza. Every. Time.

I must confess, I don't like BP's very much. I feel like it's glorified microwave dinners. That's besides the point of this post.

We go there habitually to see Tom, our forever waiter and manager.

I like to have conversations with people who serve me whether it's at the gas bar, restaurant or grocery store. I have made it a point to look people in the eye when I speak to them so they know that I am really meaning that "hi, how are you" or "thanks, have a good day". I throw in a joke or two, maybe a compliment if I mean it (because no one likes to be told that the sweater that they are wearing is nice when they you know it's ugly)

We've become friends with our server through our "tom fooler" (so punny) and antics. So much so that we text him (and vice versa) to tell him if were coming or not. He definitely goes out of his way to make us happy and gives us perks for being most likely his favorite regulars.

Last week Tom told us he wants to come to a service with us to check it out. No expectation was put on him, no prompting, no cheesy gimmicks or lines just pure friendship.

Friendship I decided, is my new battle weapon.

I've been dying to say this for the last two weeks now: I haven't been this excited about the kingdom in a long time. THIS is what I live for. Literally. This is what I honestly breathe for. Drawing people in by just being.

I could do this for a living, and maybe I really am.

I dare you to look someone in the eye today. To ask for a name. To wish a shift to pass quickly and to start all conversations on a deeper note, especially when socially not required.

Maybe then all the cliches will wash away only to expose something very simple and true: christians are just people.