numbered days

There was the countdown to our wedding day. 6 months became 6 weeks became 6 short days full of friends and family and love.

Then the countdown to moving in with friends, finishing a lease, pinching pennies and working long days to come home, fighting for rest, treasuring time.

Now the final days of this countdown to a looming unknown soon-to-be life. Soon to be starting school (for drew). Soon to be finding work (for me). Soon to be making home in the space so carefully and kindly prepared by new friends.

And the tiresome alreadys.
Already job searching. Already packing. Already tripping over sort-of-packed things. Already stressed about money. Already checking out. Already tired. Already anxious and lonely and curious. Already distracted. Already wondering which will be my last Chicago memory. Already savoring final train rides and views of downtown. Already trying to memorize the faces and sounds of old polish grandmothers on the #56 bus.

In not so many days from today (12 to be exact) will begin the 'so...'s
so...
groceries?
friends?
transit?
job?
church?
so, what time will you be home?
so, have we decided on a cell phone plan yet?
so, how was class?
so, any interviews yet?


My biggest fear? That we won't have answers. That we'll get stuck in some sort of Canadian limbo life, waiting for things to begin. Wishing for another countdown but refusing to begin the 102 week paper chain, begging for the next thing.

I want to be fully present to this time, to these experiences and possibilities. To have more hope in my heart and peace to share. But what if...

what if Drew and I fail each other?
what if we're angry and lonely and miserable?
what if we forget about grace?
what if we don't make friends?
what if he hates school and
what if he can't find a job after?
what if we have a kid too soon?
what if we can't have kids?
what if I get lost on the subway and don't have a phone and get totally lost and can't remember our address and drew has night class and doesn't notice me missing until well after dark? (this is real life friends. I need one of those dog-tracker things.)

What if I waste so much time thinking and forget to do? What if I miss out on what God is doing, What he's welcoming me (us) into, that I keep myself (or, even scarier, us) from growth, from grace, from goodness?

Well, friends, my resolve for this new season, or this continuation of a season of transition and change and uncertainty, is to be certain. Most certain of the things I know certainly and beyond doubt.

Absurd grace. Abundant hope. Abounding joy.

Learning love with my husband will root us down, carving a foundation of life together
Reveling in grace again that births joy when we find cracks that need repair and work on them together, with our beloved creator
Laughter will fill in the loose boards and keep out the cold winds of the great white north and the frost fears of newness and change
I'll bake warm pumpkin bread and almond bars to wrap us up in thoughts of old homes and dreams for the one we're making together
We'll put books on shelves, photographs on walls, things in their place - all will remind us that we're led by a faithful leader toward our home. A home prepared for us. A place of rest and truth and not of fear.

So, I embrace these final days with a renewed expectancy. What will come next? How will He provide? What will He invite us into?

your will be done, oh faithful One.



now, who wants to help me pack!?

betrothal

lenten resolve. eager and hopeful for weeks of intention to move me beyond me

supernaturally

wondering what will come in and within
in spite of this foolish and wayward heart
by somber reflection on grace that my 'me-ness' had no part in
but to desperately rely on what was given
so incomprehensibly on a tree of rough hewn boards
so many generations ago

and all these saints
believing and
intentioned and
hopeful
receive an overflow of grace that cannot run out but drips down expensively, excessively over the edges of a cup worn smooth by these thirsty lips across time and language
one in their humanity,
in desperation

and we, one
all reflecting on his denial of glory.

yet, even in the face of such mysterious glorious unfettered zealous love, my undisciplined heart is inattentive
subdued by the mere passing of hours and days which do not the delay the Lords coming
lo, even now he smoothes straight the crooked wrinkles in the fabric of our broken exile

though we have called it home

waiting, almost indifferently, continuing on with mundane and uninspired living
and this season, by wednesday is no different for the waiting but to sway ever so slightly towards

longing
wishing impulsively in bits and fits of vision and grace for
oneness
unity
life
the ache for existence that throbs deep within our being

and so we mourn.
confusingly, haltingly, desperately knowing our uncertainty can only mean we are still far
and God is willfully beyond our control
and yet in control, he sees us as we are and fashions life and purpose and order

for our good

for our good

for our good

and his GLORY.

and this glory-goodness creeps into my barely beating heart and warms a dawn of renewed hope
a new orientation and a growing knowlege of what we wait for and the horizion of it's coming
the union that will remove the wedge and thorn and tear and trial
the union that will break the bonds of death in me that I might know life
new kingdom, of his increase there shall be no end

a covenant of love. a covenant of mercy. a covenant of unity.
though I will never uphold my vow
Omega, it is finished

lenten revival. lenten renewal. lenten reconditioning
toward hope. HOPE.
rejoicing now about what is to come
for I am transformed by the renewing of my mind,
knowing sacrificial and once-for-all love that upsets the nations and might possibly
stir this heart

is good.

already

The Lord is my provider. 

The Lord. 

The Lord is. 

Provider. Provision. Portion. 

my?

In this not-yet world I should not be so surprised to find myself in another not-yet stage of life. Not yet employed. Not yet married. Not yet settled. A haze of things not complete, problems not solved, answers not given. So I keep rhythms of already. Already working, sort of. Already in love with an amazing, Godly man. Already committed to a new community and dreaming new dreams. Rhythms of being more human all the time, with clarity and questions and calm.

Already, not-yet. Almost, not-fully. Yearning, revealing.

Revealing what?

my portion. my provision. my Provider.

The Lord is. 

Teaching me love and patience.

Revealing the grandeur of his creation.

Reminding me of the joy of my salvation,

and the robust grace which abides with me as I work it out each day.

some days trembling. sometimes leaping with joy, skipping in anticipation.

and by his grace, fear of the not-yet is diminishing and a humble curiosity is growing in me.

a renewed and ever earnest longing, firmly rooted in a hope that flourishes. Today.


So I will work and wait and grow. I will observe seasons with an renewed appreciation of time, for we have been granted a rich gift of all the time that is. Our Lord is not bound by it, yet he has entrusted us with what is. all. enough.


create in me a clean heart, Oh God. and re new

re fresh

re form

a right spirit 

a right human-ness

a right worship

within me

roots

she is

beautiful branches dripping with glossy leaves

boasting blooming flowers

bowed low with the weight of her beauty

serene and still, glowing softy in morning springtime sun

no hint of the rot that lies beneath,

creeping even now up the trunk of this so praised tree

but it comes

silently stealing the sweet water that would nourish those frail roots

all while slyly, oh so cunningly praising the outward beauty

product of a hidden brokenness

and her neighbors? they flock to see the display!

utterly in awe of such charming little buds and delicate fragrance

secretly wishing to be so lovely

hoping against hope that none will know of the rot that lies within their bones

wishing to be so true as this one divine wonder

never wilting, ever budding

forgetting what it is to thrive in the unending pursuit of what is perceived

the graceful, lovely tree begins to wither under the weight of her own exhaustive pretense

she feels the ache within, but

none can know. she sees they do not struggle

ever fruitful never fading always in season with their song

no. She must hide. She must be grafted into one of those stronger ones

Her own root, which has gone deep,

has no grip on the soil which might have brought life

But as she bows lower and lower still, appearing to be graceful but so dry her branches groan and snap

she sees

roots

thick, gnarly roots of tall pines and oaks are intertwined

those trees that she has always despised

how could they thrive? standing so tall and ordinary,

unchanging with the times,

wearing scars that show their age and the storms that have shaped them?

could it be that they are more alive than she?

and from this low place, bent nearly upside down, dizzy with the weight of her own pride

she sees

roots

the mass of them, stretching across a whole forest

strengthening the grove

patiently

lovingly

together nourishing one another by sharing in their weight

for this network of roots does require something of its members

and this vulnerability exposes the weariness and age within

the struggle and scar and fear and ache of life lived in a not-yet world

but these groans for a new kingdom are sung together

and

so it comes

by these roots

waving wildly in the upside-down hope of a new reality

where none need hide

and grace breathes life

variation on psalm 43

Send out your light and your truth!

like a parade of beauty

with trumpets, flutes and horns

dancers making sweet song

with truth. by truth. to truth.

a parade that cascades down city streets

illuminating each dark alley with its song

and I, curious but timid,

tired

lag behind

watching

wishing to be swept up in the jubilee

but fearing surrender

judging the masses, skeptical of their free praise

Oh! But send forth your light and your truth!

let them lead me

let them bring me to your holy hill

(and can it be that you have a home, a place for me?)

and to your dwelling

where I might find rest for my soul

weary and worn

but your light is warm and true

strength for the most faded and lost spirit

and so the ebb and flow of neighbors, known and unknown

sweep me along with the rolling crowd

like a tide coming in

the voices and music shimmer in a high canopy

caught

in the bright moonlight

home.

oh this city! an update.

My blog hiatus has been wonderful but without real excuse.

A quick update:

I got to spend Christmas first in Iowa with Drew's family and then at home in CO with my own. In the week at home I got to catch up with Lauren and Jonathan and Annie and Katelyn - a great reunion of some of the people most dear to me from church during high school! Jonathan and I got to discuss the finer points of how to rid our world of injustice in regards to community, family, market, education, politics and well, you may send letters of thanks to us, my new address in chicago is 1220 N State, Chicago IL 60610....

I'm also accepting any sort of letter or package you might wish to send! :)

Drew visited for New Years before he jetted off to oxford for the semester (I'm visiting him over easter!!) and I enjoyed a few last nights at home before heading back to school for my final weeks on campus.

The bulk of January was spent in an interim class on Monastic Spirituality. One of my favorite professors and good friends taught this course, which studied the Rule of St. Benedict and a few other books about applying monastic values to our lives today. Needless to say, I absolutely loved the course and have been trying to adapt some of the principles to my life - particularly those regarding living with intentionality and hospitality as I seek to live a life full of worship and relationships that can honor God! If you have any wisdom or thoughts on the subject I'd love to talk more about it - it's something I need encouragement to continue seeking out and I'd love to worship in this way with others if anyone is interested!

The last week of January was spent in a hotel downtown for orientation for the program I'm doing this semester which is titled, profoundly enough, Chicago Semester. There's students from a number of small christian colleges around the midwest participating in the program - and although I spend more time with other social work students, I see most of the students during our weekly arts class and events which have been both challenging and enlightening! We get to go to art events around the city in loads of different venues, from well known theaters to little neighborhood projects.

And how is Chicago? Well, for starters, I absolutely LOVE this city! I love living here, I love working here, I love worshipping here, I love calling it home and feeling at home and finding a place, my place, in a new place.

I've got an internship with an organization called San Jose Obrero Mission in the neighborhood of Pilsen. It's a really unique neighborhood, founded by a number of polish immigrants, but shifting towards many mexican and latino immigrants over the last thirty years. It's bursting at the seems with culture and I've come to find a place there as well - even coming as an outsider who doesn't speak the language or fully yet appreciate the culture - I'm loved and it's so good.

San Jose is an interim housing and services shelter for men who are experiencing homelessness. In January, the city asked San Jose to take on a women and children's shelter that already existed just down the street. It's been a bumpy first two months, and there's a lot of change to come, but it's an exciting time to work with SJOM! I've taken on a bulk of the volunteer coordination and that has led to creating programs for the children here. Thus far, we've just been trying to handle the logistics of implementing basic services, like employment training, case management and housing assistance for the women - so it's been a great challenge to advocate for programs for these beautiful and wonderful kids! I'm getting to really put my frustrations with social work as a value system on the line and offer what little I've learned to my many business background co-workers. I'm learning loads and loving it all the way!

So that's been the last two months - ever so briefly. It's been a lot of adjusting to new places, new routines, meeting new people and finding a place here - in newness, newness that I hope will soon become my own. I'm so thankful to find a sense of peace here - that as much as I still miss my mountains and my family and our kitchen and the smells of home, I'm also so at home here in this city, riding these busses and walking these busy, quirky streets. I have so much passion for the work that God is doing here, and even as I rejoice to hear about the good work he is doing at V7, in my family and church community there; I know that God is calling me to work here. What a blessing!

I know that's a brief summation of a lot of happenings. If you have questions just ask...or call....or write letters...

I'll try to be more diligent with blogging - but no promises - I've got too much city to see! :)

A view of our wee studio from the door

my bed and our desk

and kendra's bed

and of course, I'm making excellent use of our kitchen! these are mom's best black bottom cupcakes. yum!

Marked by Ashes

by walter brueggemann

Rule of the Night, Guarantor of the Day...

This day - a gift from you.

This day - like none other you have ever given,

or we have ever recieved.

This Wednesday dazzels us wtih gift and newnss and possiblity.

This Wednesday burdens us with the tasks of the day,

for we are already halfway home

halfway back to committees and memos,

halfway back to calls and appointments

halfway on to next Sunday,

halfway back, half frazzled, half expectant,

half turned toward you, half rather not

This Wednesday is a long way from Ash Wednesday,

but all our Wednesdays are marked by ashes -

we begin this day with that taste of ash in our mouth:

of failed hope and broken promises,

of forgotten children and fightened women,

of more war casualties, more violence, more cynicism;

we ourselves are ashes to ashes,

dust to dust;

we can taste our mortality as we roll the ash around

on our tongues.

We are able to ponder our ashness with

some confidence, only because every Wednesday of ashes

anticipates your Easter victory over that dry, flaky taste

of death.

On this Wednesday, we submit our ashen way to you -

you Easter parade of newness.

Before the sun sets, take our Wednesday and Easter us,

Easter us to joy and energy and courage and freedom;

Easter us that we may be fearless for your truth.

Come here and Easter our Wednesday with

mercy and justice and peace and generosity.

We pray as we wait for the Risen One who comes soon.