I’m pushing a month since I last wrote. I realize any random readers I gained are probably long gone, giving up on the few laughs afforded by reading someone else’s life foibles. I wish I had better words. A friend recently explained what it meant to taste words… it sounded so right. But, now I feel like all my taste buds have been burned off and I can’t quite articulate the life that’s happening around me.

I’ll start by saying that my time at home was a gift. Now that I’m back here for my last semester of college, (of course, all of you folks in ‘real life’ saw this coming!) I am taking inventory. I’m asking all those questions freshmen ask when they arrive on campus, wide-eyed and ready to bring their answers and gifts to the world. Only this time, I’m asking these questions posed for answers I never expected. I’m asking without interrupting to finish the puzzle with my own inspired solution.

Something that has come of this spiritual and intellectual inventory is the beauty of community and the importance of relationships in the body of Christ. This isn’t a new idea, I realize, but God continues to press on my heart with ways I am not living in agreement with what I understand to be His truth on the issue. God formed community as a reflection of Himself. How beautiful! There is such peace in knowing that this is how God intended life. Yet, the people with whom I should most instinctively live in right relationship are the very ones with whom I forget.

The over-arching redemptive narrative climaxed on earth with the ultimate sacrifice of and for community in Jesus’ death and resurrection. But the beautiful resolution began with the presence of the Holy Spirit… and now we can see that God’s children are all part of one holy body, working to do the will of the Father. I praise God for this design… the community gathered around my life has shaped what I know to be love.

Again, I’m overwhelmed with where to go from here, because so much has transpired in the few short weeks I’ve entered into this community. In some ways it feels familiar and in others I sense the old feelings of restlessness pressing in with the power and momentum of a train… I want to jump on. .. throwing off everything that hinders and the sin that so easily entangles (Hebrews 12). Everything that gave me joy and life in my journey in Chicago is part of a much grander, glorified picture that God has for His kingdom.

Life right now is going much, much faster than I anticipated, but at the same time I’ve never valued peace and quiet more. I love that to the world contradictions go unexplained, but to God contradictions reveal his wisdom and our folly. He is not confused. Praise the Lord for the mysteries kept beyond our reach – for our salvation that is to be worked out with fear and trembling. Praise God for His ways that are so much higher than our ways! For He IS God, and to understand any more than He’s revealed would make Him less than the Almighty.

I wish I could explain. I’ve started so many little blogs in my mind. Sometimes I wish I could have a mini keyboard that I could manipulate with one hand. I envision myself with the little contraption on my hip, right hand typing away as I walked to class. I know – could I be more of a geek? I literally think in terms of paragraphs as I walk down the sidewalk. Many of these little brainstorms only make it as far as the unresponsive air, but the world is probably better for it. These blogs can only take so much theorizing from commonfolk like me.

I will hopefully update with a little more regularity, because I feel overwhelmed right now to try bring everything in my life up to present.

go in peace and grace.

Well, what I projected as a slower, peaceful week has turned into something quite different. But, considering the amount of Christmas shopping I’ve done, my schedule needs to be this full!:) Today I am meeting my beautiful friend Lis, then heading to work at Opportunity, then coming back to work at Sullivan’s. I work every day this week, but I’ve got something to look forward to – Friday my sister comes into town and I’m so excited to show her around!

I’ve realized a bundle in the short two days that my friends have been gone (the rest of my program moved out on Sunday) … I like spending time in solitude when it is my choice, not necessarily when it is the only choice. While my friends were here, I found myself often choosing work, writing, and other relationships over spending time with them. Yet, I always found comfort knowing that they were here, in my building, a phone call away. I’ve still got the girls from church, who are amazing and I’m so thankful for them… but I guess more of my selfishness is coming through in my reaction to forced alone time.

It’s amazing that, given time and open eyes, we continue to see the layers peeled back and more of our nature comes through. I guess this is good because then we can know how to fight back. It certainly keeps a person humble – not only am I trying to keep all the past things I’ve discovered about myself under control, but I’m always finding new vices vying for my time and treasure.

Whew. I’m ready to wrap up this week, load up the car, and head westbound. Hallelujah for Jesus – what a miracle! The best and biggest reason to fight for joy!

On my flight home from Virginia, I sat between two men from Detroit to Chicago. On my left, John and I got off to a great start. We started talking and I found out about his family and a daughter who might be looking at attending Hope College. We ended up really encouraging one another. I enjoyed his stories of his church, travels, and family.

I turned to my right about halfway through the flight and (I forget his name) was equally friendly, but of a quite different sort. He lives not far from where I work at Sullivan’s and so we talked about the bars in the area and where he goes each day of the week. He manages the Marriott hotel, and because he’s a bachelor, he makes the rounds as far as restaurants go. After two gin and tonics, he was sure talkative and anxious to tell me about his exciting life, moving from Hawaii to Detroit to Oklahoma to Chicago and soon to California.

It surprised me how easy it was to transition from the two gentlemen. It reminded me of my father, actually. I think some have said he could make conversation with a deaf mute. It really just takes a measure of perception and a genuine interest. .. Paul said he chose Timothy because he, “took a genuine interest in the affairs of others.” I was almost worried that John would think me a hypocrite because I could talk about bars and cigars (nevermind that my first-hand experience belies my vocabulary).

Well, my friend on the right started talking about the war after I asked him if he voted in the election. Like I said, his tongue was pretty loose, so he was talking about how foolish it was that America had to solve everyone’s problems. John overheard and became very much involved and before long, I was hearing two very sad stories.

John quickly defended the integrity of the armed forces and shared a story of a best friend’s son, a Marine, who was killed in Afghanistan after being there for only a month. He described the honorable funeral and how it’d made an impact on him. I could have imagined it, but I think he was near tears.

My friend on the right was not to be outdone in story telling. He spoke of the craziness of some soldiers after they return from the war. Then he started telling the story of Oklahoma City…where Timothy McVeigh, a well-trained and well-mannered soldier, committed such a heinous crime. “My friend’s father was in the building that day,” he told me. His father was killed that day in the hands of Mr. McVeigh and I can’t imagine the roller coaster it’s been for him to understand why.

I was caught in the middle of this conversation and interjected only that my faith is what truly sustains – amidst the wars, chaos, and uncertainties. But, I almost felt the words fall to the ground as I said them. How should I speak to this man who has experienced such loss?

Amadeus captures death through the life of Salieri. At one point he was so angry because God had allowed Mozart first divine inspiration in the form of music and second death, whereas Salieri, suffering from his self-proclaimed mediocrity, was forced to live a long life without divine inspiration whatsoever.

They say, “food for thought.” I think this could be a steak. But I must move on to new things!!

If I had a to-do list that held any kind of real weight in my life, I would write in bold, capitals WATCH AMADEUS. I’ve just returned from a design workshop in Charlottesville, Virginia. The trip was yet another journey into self-discovery and a brilliant respite from life in Chicago. Unfortunately, I have no eloquent reason to offer for not writing sooner. In fact, I was thoroughly disappointed in my less-than-ambitious use of free time in the well-preserved town where Jefferson is the claim to fame.
True to my “name,” I did wander about and enjoyed the downtown mall, brick streets, and used book shops. The price of food and entertainment has quite certainly kept up with the times and I daresay they are actually ahead of the ‘downtowns’ I’m used to.

But, that aside, I am such a jumble of jacks! Back to Salieri…
The workshop was hosted by a design company that works primarily with Christian non-profit clients (of which we are one). I hardly believed I was going until I rushed the Blue Line on Sunday to get to O’Hare.

I immediately felt comfortable and welcome in the house-converted-to-office just blocks from the adorable colonial inn where I was staying.

As I sat in the workshops, I found myself returning to my thoughts on the theology of work. The wonderful people at Journey very much incorporated these ideas into their interaction with the editing/designing world. One of the presenters used several references to the movie Amadeus, which follows the story of Salieri and Mozart. Salieri was a well-known composer of his time, but lacked the genius of Mozart to create new, inspired music. He tells the story of his failures as Mozart’s music eventually crowded out Salieri and his mediocrity brought depression and jealousy.

The journey presenter said at one time, “Basically Salieri could recognize genius but couldn’t create it.” I’ve always known the story of Mozart, but never in this context (I know – where’s my mother’s influence on this one, right?). I was at once captured by the philosophy and theology behind this rivalry.

Though we can never truly be creators, God’s creativity can flow through us into astounding portraits, prose, and pieces of music.

What will we settle for? God desires nothing less than excellence.
Again I go back to C.S. Lewis’ frustrated assertion that we are content to play in mud puddles when we could be vacationing on the shores.

I felt so blessed to also have had the chance to talk to several experienced and wise professionals. I sorted through options and explained my odd peace about graduating without a five-year plan. They were all very encouraging and their own stories evidenced once again the blessings that come through obedient steps of faith.

I thought this little anecdote pushed perpetual studentdom past a graduation date:

Once, while giving a lecture at a seminary, Billy Graham was asked a pointed question by a student. “Why,” he began, “with the horrible state of the world, should we stay in school instead of jumping into the field?” Dr. Graham told the class about the wisdom of the woodsman who took the time each morning to sharpen his ax before he went into the forest to cut down trees. He then turned to the student and said, “Sharpen your ax.”

Can you imagine cutting a tree with a dull ax? I think I’ve tried it before and the tree still stands, stubborn thing.

After coming back from Iowa’s open spaces, a study on transportation is more than appropriate. Moments after I touched down, I was in a car – a vehicle completely controlled by the driver, who could direct it at whatever speed and in whatever course she so desired. The context was familiar, but I had never wondered at the concept until I was dependent on public transportation for two months. The philosophy of jumping behind the wheel has all sorts of implied power wound up in its gears.

My experiences with transportation in the city have been mostly good. I say ‘mostly’ because I did write not too long ago about the almost-pick pocket at an el station.

The entire system of public transportation forces a kind of community you may not find passing people on the yellow dotted line, each in their own steel cages along a highway. Two things are especially interesting to me about this community 1. It is forced and 2. people appear to grasp for invisible cages to separate certain circles from other certain circles.

Actually, if I was interested in a third thing, it would be the fluidity with which it moves – all parts acting in a sort of disjointed, symbolic symphony of how life is lived together. You have the homeless woman in the back corner of the bus, clutching three bags and looking out the window every three seconds. You’ve also got the young businessman, checking his watch after adjusting the black leather briefcase slung around his back. You’ve got women professionals who sit or stand, sporting tennis shoes at the feet of tailored J. Crew pants or TJ Maxx bargains. You’ve also got the tourist, carrying at least three shopping bags, smiling to take in the newness of riding a Chicago city bus and occasionally checking the map tucked into their purse. You’ve got other regulars – students, workers, and roamers.

But, since I’m interested in the first two, I guess I’ll say something about that. There’s no way around public transportation. Everyone simply can’t own a car because it’s expensive and impractical. So, a mix of people find themselves in community for a period of time. There is sort of a public transportation face one puts on and it’s especially helpful with a personal music player. Once your personal world is established, not many people dare to knock on your door or open theirs. While many commonalities can be found and friendships forged if one is uber-persistent, the community that meets every morning, noon, and evening struggles against what the environment encourages: relationships.

That said, there are many exceptions. There is Chris… and George… and the Italian lady… and the 747 bus driver who takes the 3:17 route to Forest Park CTA (we’re good friends, but you know when it becomes awkward to ask someone’s name because you know each other?) Yep… there’s more, too. These people are open to the natural community these moving machines create.

I have only taken a taxi once. My grandpa was pretty concerned about me schlepping my baggage from Midway airport to the Orange Line, transferring to the Red Line, and walking about 4 blocks home. He said it would make him feel better if I took a cab. So, I did. It was pretty nice to watch everything at street level inside the safety and quiet. I had big ideas about making friends, which quickly vanished when my driver put in one of those cell phones you stick in your ear. The language (Arabic maybe?) was beautiful, but no friendship formed (it can’t happen all the time, right?). I actually did try to take a cab last night again. I was super, super, super tired after closing at Sullivan’s and I waited and waited for the Red Line and finally lost patience. I flagged a cab and told him where I needed to go. He thought for a moment and started driving. Passing the street we should have turned on, he said, “I’m going to go ahead because I don’t want to cross traffic to turn.” Thinking back, his concern was valid, but for the first time I assumed the negative – he wanted to drive around and bring up the bill.

So, I walked and I’m glad I did.

This is a lot on transportation. Too much? I don’t know. I’m just glad it’s Saturday and I’m taking deep breaths.

Winter
I remember winter. I guess I usually forget around fall. So wrapped up in the warm drinks, football games, and warmer clothes that I forget that winter wears an icy grin and blows a frigid breeze. I forget that leaving means putting on layers and always carrying chapstick. I forget that I have to put Kleenex in every bag and make sure I switch my gloves when I switch coats. I forget that having my ears covered is more than a fashion statement, but an effort to fend off frostbite.

I remember winter. Once I get past the shock, the season is alive with good, good things.