Wow. I don’t even know what to title these thoughts, but the Lord is good! And He continues to bless His children! The past couple days, or week really, I have been learning in Bible study, church, conversations, walks a beautiful narrative that God has woven together in front of my eyes. Just tonight at Bible study (we’ve been studying the death of Christ through the Old Testament) and in a conversation I found more grounding in small mysteries being revealed. Praise God as I resonate with an AMEN.

Okay, I’ll reign myself in and try to make this organized and beneficial. Tonight Brian (who leads the Bible Study) felt the Lord calling him to a time of personal and corporate repentance. We’ve been studying Christ’s death in great depth – looking back to the shadows and types in the Old Testament to really understand just how magnificent and central Christ’s death is to life – here and eternal. Tonight was supposed to be the segueway from the first 5 chapters of the Bible into what Christ accomplished and the life that came as a result. Yet, instead we entered into a time of reflection and repentance.

We started by looking at two passages in Luke – the accounts of Jesus’ prayer on the Mount of Olives (Luke 22:39-46) and also the transfiguration (Luke 9:28-36). In both instances, the disciples fell into deep sleeps from exhaustion. Even as Christ’s face changed and his robes flashed like lightning, Peter and company were sleepy! Meanwhile, Jesus conferred with Moses and Elijah, who had been dead for something like 1500 and 800 years. And of what did they speak? THE CROSS.

The cross, that sometimes decorates our days and almost clutters Christian conversation. Honestly, I can say that I’ve zoned out as pastors, speakers, or friends begin teaching on the importance of the cross. It’s almost as if my hardened spirit says, “I get it already! I know Christ died and my sins are forgiven – praise God and now give me three points in a take-home message box.” I wouldn’t say it’s been quite that bad, but it might as well be!

Woe is me! After so many years, this miracle of Christ’s discussion with Moses and Elijah broaches one topic: Christ’s death. There aren’t many places in Scripture where people converse with the dead (the only one I know of is Saul in 1 Samuel 28)… Moses and Elijah were already significant to the redemptive narrative and had been dead for so long so this conversation reads volumes what is fit in a few verses.

So – with that as a backdrop, we talked about what spiritual sleepiness looks like and how we might repent of it… how our study and pressing in to God’s glory in His Son can be something that gives God the most glory.

We looked at the parable of the sower and the seeds – the parable that Jesus describes as the one that would explain all the other parables. So, what difference is there in the four plots of land, why does only one survive? It deals not with the seed – the seed is the Word of God and can not be defiled (Leviticus 11). The one seed grows because it is planted good soil, which is defined in Luke 8:15 as a noble and good heart.

So, it is the heart that needs readying – brought out of spiritual slumber to recognize the great glory in the Trinity. The heart must be illuminated to expose the darkness in the farthest part, SO that we may more fully see the impact of Christ’s blood. “Wake up, O Sleeper! And Christ will shine on you!” (Ephesians 5)

I have in no way exhausted this subject and praise the Lord! For, if I could contain it, how much less glory would be due!
I have to make connections with more of God’s greatness…

Lately, the Lord has been captivating my heart with His command of creation. As was revealed to Peter in a vision (Acts 10), Christ’s sacrifice was not only for the Jews, but also for the Gentiles.
Paul writes that “You are all sons of God through faith in Christ Jesus, for all of you who were baptized into Christ have clothed yourselves with Christ. There is neither Jew nor Greek, slave nor free, male nor female, for you are all one in Christ Jesus. If you belong to Christ, then you are Abraham’s seed, and heirs according to the promise.” Galatians 3:26-29

Whatever we have found here on earth to divide – they are all merely details, peripheral, penultimate. Tall or short, smart or foolish, planned or surprised, married or single… even down to the most minute things that divide time, effort, money. My decisions to do/not do homework, to eat/not eat food… it goes on. ALL these details cloud out the ultimate, yet they all submit to God’s power. Frederik Bonhoeffer writes similar thoughts about in regards to vocation. God has called us to live life, as Christians, in a manner that brings him glory. period.

Everything else (as Paul describes in 1 Corinthians 2:2) is unnecessary. God is the One and Only who is great enough to fully know the ultimate, giving glory to Himself, while also knowing the penultimate, which also brings glory to Himself. We, on the other hand, can NOT do that. I can only handle the pursuit of one thing. Praise the Lord for having patience and mercy enough to let me return to Him in my pursuit! God is GOD regardless of what I choose to pursue.

But, lest I confuse myself, I dare not ask him to take away the periphery. No, these are the outworking of my faith – accomplished through fear and trembling. These are the temptations that have no stronghold when brought before the Creator that commands the universe. Even those things farthest from center – those are His domain as well. When I have relinquished my illusion of control, I can see the glory in His sovereignty!

And what command he has! The depths of the sea and the far reaches of galaxies – what purpose have they but to bring the Lord glory? No human hand or eye has experienced these things, but the Lord created everything with purpose and even these places cry out that He is GOD.

My attempts fall so short. But – to those that read this – press in to the Lord and allow His glory to shape your life and understanding.

There are many, many things jumbling through my mind… pictures, stories, paintings, analogies.
Praise the Lord that he sees my heart clearly and without confusion! And praise Him that He follows His children everywhere – even as my dad is flying over oceans on his way to Kenya this very day!

Whew.

Winter slumber. I can not possibly in simple words express the joy of this past week. A joy that grew with each melting, white layer to expose glints of green blades, tightly bound for months to the earth. I resolved to walk as much as I possibly could, with my face unashamedly stretched toward the peculiar blue sky. My face had little trouble finding familiar creases as I squinted at the beautiful, bright sphere. Though I know this glimpse of the “other side” may be brief, I am spurred on with anticipation of the glorious season of Spring! What a wonderful design.

Lately my thoughts have been almost as scattered and eclectic as the artwork you may find decorating the house where small children are its only artists. I suppose this is refreshing – a return to anything childlike is very often energy with new eyes. Yet, there is some wonder in Jesus’ charge to be ‘childlike.’ To be childlike is to recapture the essence in the heart of a child and the mind of a child, while recognizing that I am no longer a child. Praise God for He has blessed me in the heavenly realms with every spiritual blessing in Christ (Ephesians 1)! I will always be a child of God, but I am also called to grow in faith through perseverance. As days are added to my life, so my understanding increases of the great and glorious riches in Christ. And yet, in this understanding, I am increasingly aware that with every new knowledge there are thousands more – never too few that I could exhaust the Lord’s greatness in this life or the next.

So, why like a child should we come? In 1 Corinthians 14:20, Paul writes to the church regarding speaking in tongues, “Brothers, stop thinking like children. In regard to evil be infants, but in your thinking be adults.” Children do possess a beautiful innocence – an untarnished presence – maybe simply due to less time lived in a sinful world (sadly the age where this innocence is exposed has spiraled to reach for the dearest and youngest of souls).

I believe the Lord has called us to be like children because He desires for us simple obedience. He desires consuming joy that explodes on our insides and bursts out through our lives like the spontaneous laughter of a child dancing, absolutely unaware of anything else. He desires for us the ultimate exhilaration of being in awe of His presence. Only children can still manage those wide eyes, full of unquestioning belief and exuberant hope.

Like a child we should come, but thinking with the minds God has given. We are to be ‘wise as serpents, but gentle as doves.’ The Lord is faithful to give wisdom to those who seek Him, and so, as adults, we meditate on the mysteries of Christ and Him crucified.

I recently read an excerpt from Albert Schweitzer’s Out of My Life and Thought, published in 1931. This man, with all his accomplishments in music, philosophy, theology, the world of academia, and ministry, decided at age 30 to return to school with the eventual goal of being a jungle doctor in the Congo. The excerpt described his struggles in explaining this seeming outrageous decision to friends and family, who questioned his sanity in leaving what many aspire to achieve.

He writes, “In the many adversarial debates I had to endure with people who passed for Christians, it amazed me to see them unable to perceive that the desire to serve the love preached by Jesus may sweep a man into a new course of life. They read in the New Testament that it can do so, and found it quite in order there.”

Why, then, was it so absurd for Schweitzer to pursue wisdom through the courses of institutional education in order to give his life in service? He speaks to the necessity of those who are able to take this route to embark without hesitation. For not everyone has the opportunity or means to press into such a station. Those who can, must, so that the whole Church is working together to fulfill the Body’s needs.

Maybe it is in circumstances like that of Schweitzer where it would be helpful to return to the inescapable, simple truths. Those outlined in the source of all divine inspired wisdom – the Word of God. Schweitzer wasn’t in need of philosophies or theories of the day to decide the direction of his life. But, as a child would in full faith (and curiosity:) follow a mysterious light down a path, so too do our souls long to follow the light of Christ, however irrational or insensible it may seem to hardened, grown-up eyes.

Though I would indeed like to continue, I must stop because Saturday awaits… as does a theoretical application in social psychology, reading, and maybe most importantly a wonderful few hours I’ll be spending celebrating community with friends over lunch.

love from holland.

I was reading through my old journals recently (something I definitely recommend!) and I didn’t know whether to be humored or embarrassed by some of the things my young mind thought. I remember being almost meticulous about what I included, because I was sure someday it would be published and read all over the world. Boy, now I’m glad I have the only copies! When they say young girls are dramatic, they sure weren’t lying!

Well, I could write for hours on the juicy gems I found, but I just want to reflect on a wise man I met a couple of years ago while I was doing some service work in Hollywood.

Jeff had been a pastor for years, but partly due to his own choices and partly due to circumstance, he ended up on the street. He was volunteering at the church where I was helping and that’s how we became friends. Jeff, with a beaming smile and knowing eyes, could see right through me, it seemed. He could look at me as though looking at my heart. I mostly loved Jeff for this reason. I say mostly because, if you know a person like Jeff, you know that this kind of piercing insight is sometimes uncomfortable. He had level-eyed honesty. You may know this type as well – Jeff was the kind of person that never averted your gaze and often held his eyes so steady you wondered just what else he could find so interesting in your face. Jeff was a man of the Word and knew Scripture as though it was what kept him alive. But, Jeff didn’t disguise his brokenness. He didn’t cover up the things about his life that had brought him to that point, at the mission.

Jeff was the picture of a broken, contrite heart – the kind the Lord does not deny. How could one not be drawn to such an individual? I find myself continually, whether or not consciously, seeking out these kinds of treasured souls because I think they are the best teachers of life.

Over Christmas I had several wonderful talks with beautiful people in my life. I always treasure the times I can spend with my grandparents and this Christmas was no different. During one such conversation, my grandpa and I were talking about how the Lord uses both right and wrong choices to reveal His glory. For, we would never truly come to the throne of grace with broken and contrite hearts had we not first understood our foolish ways.

There are many, many times in my life I’ve approached the throne with confidence – my confidence – and presented myself to the Lord. I committed in word and deed. I manufactured affections and recited Scripture. I did all these things, yet Paul says to the church in Corinth, “I resolve to know nothing but Christ and Him crucified.” He resolved to know nothing with his own faculties, wisdom, or understanding. Even after all that raw life he experienced, he resolved to only know what was in Christ. Paul, ever the academic achiever and evangelist, wrote that only in Christ did he know anything. Redundant? Yes. Does my own life reflect it? Sadly, no.

This deserves more thought and carries more weight than I can express, but it in every way refers back to my conversation with my grandpa. Paul very clearly came to the throne, arms outstretched, asking in desperation for the Lord to fill him completely – to make something, anything of his life that would reflect the glory of God.

There has never (and will never be) a time where I have reason to approach the throne with any confidence of my own. If Paul was the worst of sinners, I am so grateful my sins are hidden in the depths of the sea!

The only way to come before God is in complete submission: offering nothing, expecting nothing, and bringing nothing but this fragile flesh. God hears and has compassion in such a way that we are filled. No, not just filled. We absolutely overflow with the goodness and mercy and joy and peace and compassion that are poured out by the Holy Spirit.

“Oh, to know the power of Your risen life
and to know You in Your suffering
To become like You in Your death my Lord
and so with You to live and never die”

The abundantly blessed life is one lived as a broken and contrite heart, received by the Lord and filled with the power of the Holy Spirit.

Yes! My soul wells up in hallelujahs to agree with Paul and all the saints: God searches for and accepts those hearts with absolutely no confidence but in Christ and Him crucified. Sigh.

What pleasure comes from seeking the pleasure of the Lord! Our joy will only be complete when we run relentlessly (yes, sometimes recklessly) after God. I wish I could talk specifics. I wish I could elaborate and enumerate, define and depict. But, then where would that leave the holy mystery?

Specifically, right now I think I should feel as though I’ve climbed Mt. Confusion, conquered its rocky precipice, and collapsed at the top for lack of direction. Though I’ve hiked its tricky terrain before, I instead feel like I’m headed up another mountain.

The peace is peculiar because the air is thin and I’ve realized I left my gear at the previous campsite, miles below. I journey on, stopping to breathe and pausing to pick up natural treasures. The way should seem lonesome, but the whole of nature surrounding me reaches up with a resounding AMEN. With each step I feel more a part of the glorious song of heaven, “Holy, Holy, Holy is the Lord, God Almighty. The whole earth is full of His glory.”

If you’ve made it this far, I might have sent you on your own Mt. Confusion adventure and for this I’m dreadfully sorry! Sometimes the pictures in my mind look so beautiful I can’t help but write them down.

It’s Sunday night in Holland and this is the first Sunday in weeks that I’ve used technology. I started today out of necessity – an application needed submitting – but I hope to return to technology free days. I’m just about to leave for the Gathering, our Sunday night service and I know the Lord will bless this time.

For now, blessings from Hope College,
where nearly all the women are engaged, the men are in denial, and the children are just turning the corner to cabin-fever…
(reference to the classic Garrison Keillor)

Yes. It is a word. Discombobulate, a verb, means to confuse or disconcert; upset or frustrate.

I think this almost captures my feelings right now. All day I’ve felt stretched and pulled, my mind racing off in one direction, only to be reigned in to flee the opposite way. My heart is in the same predicament and it makes me feel so weak. I am in the midst of this 21 days of prayer and fasting and I have seen the Lord’s blessings, but my have I seen the devil too.

I have realized that this resolve to meditate and pray comes only with extreme discipline and focus. I expected to skip right to the joy and celebration without enduring any pain or confusion.

I can picture the Lord looking down and saying, “Oh, child. My child when will you know that it is I you’re seeking? Walk through the fire, dear one. Be blessed that I chose you to be refined. Take joy in this, child.”

My soul wells up to ask God not for more of Him but for confirmation of me. I want to be confirmed that I’m going the right way, seeking the right things, and loving with the right heart. This transition back into college life has been awkward and cumbersome, yet also wonderful and refreshing. God has opened my life with time, but then asks me “What will you do with this time I’ve given, little one? How will you spend these hours?”

So many questions fill to bursting from within – why does community seem to take me two different places? How can I desire something so much it’s hard to move? And where in the world is all that determined, no-funny-business focus that I’m so accustomed to?

I guess I should’ve said at the beginning that this is the almost end of a very, very long day. I know myself well enough to see when I’m being dramatic. This is one of those times. The questions are there, sure, but if I fight the drama then I remember the arms of peace that hold my spirit and comfort my soul.

Last night someone listed off the things he knows, as a Christian. Things God graciously spelled out for us in the Word. Things that we build our lives upon. The list was wonderfully long and beautifully incomplete – there’s something about the mystery of God that is so reverent.
What a wonderful place to start – with the promises and commands of the perfect Creator and Redeemer.

Amen to that!

Well, one might assume after 17 years in formal education that some things start making sense. I guess I’ve found this to be true, but more often than not I’m surprised.

Looking back a couple months, there is absolutely no way I could have predicted that I would be right here at this point. Even a couple weeks ago, I was involved in my little world with my little plans, unaware that my plans and dreams could take such exciting dips and turns. Last year, I went through a Beth Moore study called Believing God, and one of the things I’ll always remember is the discussion on faith… it is a present-active-participle, ongoing action. So often I am unaware and unbelieving that the Lord could do great things in my life. What does this mean?

For starters, Scripture demands my audience – no, my participation in what the Lord has promised and started as a good work in me. I want nothing other than to come into beautiful, divine agreement with His plan. The dreams He has for me … I can’t be excited enough about them. This past semester, I discovered that dreaming and vision casting bring life and energy to my life. But, there’s nothing I could think up or dream up that would compare to the adventures that await me in God’s glorious, ordained work! I’m still working my way through Kings (after various sidetracks and pit stops) and the grace God granted time and time and time again… it’ s astounding.

Regardless of the actions of His chosen, He did not forsake His covenant. Praise the Lord for his faithfulness. Oh, that I would never take lightly his perfect faithfulness!

Tonight I heard a speaker on the subject of prayer and fasting. There is a small, fiery community here at Hope that is so hungry for the Lord and His purposes fulfilled. And, as the disciples did after the bridegroom left, the group has decided to spend a focused time of praying and fasting to seek the Lord and come into agreement with his plans, both corporately and for individuals. As I listened, I was moved. Not in the emotion sense, but in more of a return to solid foundation sense. Hearing God’s word spoken always always brings truth to light. A lot of times, at least for me, that means exposing things of darkness (Ephesians 5). So, I sat listening, praying, and asking God to examine my life for things that aren’t His and things that distract from giving all my worship.

Nothing, absolutely nothing good comes without the Holy Spirit and the Holy Spirit is sought through prayer. Time and time again in the Old and New Testament God’s children sought Him in earnest, whether to grieve, repent, or in search of wisdom. Oh, how I see this lacking in my life!

Sigh. And the Lord is lifted up, midst shouts of joy and also as we weep and mourn. His glory is revealed as His children obey, but also when we fail – for then we see His righteousness! I pray that my own knowledge of His righteousness would come through obedience…

The man speaking tonight had a weathered, raspy voice and thin, white hair. His face creased in concern and curved in compassion for the hungry hearts gathered. He spoke with gentleness, but pleaded with urgency that we be a people like the first church in Acts who earnestly sought God and the Holy Spirit and brought about history-altering change.

Sometimes I wonder if I could ever be such a person. Only by God’s grace, that is for certain.

grace and peace to you all on this Friday night!

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.