All I Can See

This July I went to Italy for 2.5 weeks. Now, I've been back for months. I came back, and didn't want to go to work. I didn't want to start the mundane tasks of cleaning, unpacking, laundry, or even cooking. I had changed, but I was back in a world that didn't seem to accommodate my change. But I had started a new ellipse around my old life, similar patterns, but different interactions.


I just wanted to keep traveling, to keep seeing new things, understand more, ask more questions. I want adventure. Coming home feels like the adventure for summer is over. The excitement is over, and nothing new will happen and rock my world, but the world of the present may smother me. Each place, each face, each set of steps to a dome, each painting, fresco, or sculpture of the trip brought more wonder. More questions. More desires to see and understand. Everything in life seems all wrapped up in one big blob of questions, desires, and goals. It's like my universe is trying to strangle me.

• I was sad to come home. But coming home also brought solidarity and safety.
• I was reluctant to start daily functions, for fear I'll forget "the other way" we did things away from home. Will I forget the packed buses of Rome? Or the smell of markets or bakeries? Will I remember the delicate but clear aroma of fresh baked bread with cheese and prosciutto as lunch sandwiches from 2 Brother's?
• I was excited to bring new ways of doing things into my daily life here. How to make a cappuccino in a french press. Enjoying amaretti or biscotti with my coffee. 
• I was bummed that I did not see everything. But then, could I really see everything or even if I could, could I take it in?
• I was and still am enticed by future options, future travels, future explorations.

Coming back took away the new frontier I was exploring. My heart wants to be open to understanding languages and cultures, fields and mountains, paths and roads, maps and globes. It still yearns for another place, to understand people more. This yearning reminds me of the cyclical, funnel-shaped nature of life.

I am back into a similar pattern as before, but in a new orbit. Each cycle of a day is a new point on the map. Each interaction a chance for understanding. Seasons of life come and go as the rotation of life comes and goes. But it does not stay on the same orbit. Each plot-point of each day shapes the direction and speed in which our lives turn -life never comes back to the same spot, making each moment a one-time gift. As water swirling in funnel moves in a direction without touching the same place twice, the swirl of life happenings may go around in the same funnel, and have the similar shape, but be in a different situation, a tighter pull toward the center.

Some things are the same, anchoring life and me in new situations. I still love traveling different country-sides. Instead of traveling France on bike like 2 years ago, we traveled Italy by train. I still like solitude. Instead of shade trees, we made use of piazza's for rest breaks. I enjoy simplicity. Instead of cooking each meal, we frequented food stands many times. I still am learning to trust. Instead of staying glued to the maps, I trusted friends to lead.

Around and around.

Same, but different.

Similar, but changed.

What is my center of daily life? What am I being pulled towards each day? When I look at my daily choices and habits, what is the same as the past and what has changed? Do I want to continue in that direction? with that force? with that pattern? How will this translate back into life here in Chicago or wherever I am in the world? How have I let myself be changed and how can I let that out and draw nearer to God and His world?

I can't see everything. And when I can't see everything, I can make small goals, small dreams come true. All I can see is what is before me. But what I can do, is as Brendan James sings, "ask the Creator of all good things ... what it means to live" and then listen for His response.

May I keep moving in the direction God leads. Though the funnel might narrow, His grace and truth holds me, and the world in place, providing what we need for that moment in life, that point in time.

Weary Rest

Why is my soul so chipped inside? So sad, hurt, and tired?

How come my heart is worn to the core, ready to lash out or cry?

Lord, I work for you, live for you, and try to share your compassion with the world around me.

I look around, and it is they, the world of selfishness, anger, and lust that are full of life.

What I say and do is held in disdain, questioned, and pushed away.

Yet together they drink, laugh, and carouse, enjoying the bonds of friendship.

Like a cliff by the sea, I am being eaten away at the core, not able to hold the waves back.

Little by little consumed by the tide, it weakens, bends, and crumbles.

Oh Lord, How can Your character be built in me when all lifestyles around daily surround and hide your face from my view?

Instead of your face, I see only pain, confusion, and contortions of Your fallen creatures, and know not what to do.

Where can we go for healing? Where can I hide to find care?

In silence, my mind roars.

In community, my soul is alone.

In searching, my heart hides.

In peace, my psyche goes mad.

But I still will praise You. Your honor I will sing.

Community you brought together.

Friends you have provided to be with, to listen.

Family you have given back.

Yourself, you died for all.

Your Spirit lives within me. His touch and presences heals.

Build a guard against the waves, give me strength to keep on standing.

Carve the contour of your heart on my soul though I may not see you inside.

Friendships for eternity you are building, bringing joy, hope and purpose.

Those around me will falter and fall down, longing for what you offer.

You lead my steps when I follow, You take me deep into your heart.

Tenderly you wait for me to come, Gently you open Your embrace.

My soul will rest in God my Saviour, being healed from hurts now raw.

Inward fatigue now bathed in hope,

Displays your unfailing love.

My heart now shaped more like Yours, each dent and bruise and hole,
Ready to offer shelter; Thank You for making me whole.

Hidden Memories

As I packed my goal of one to three boxes a day, I've come across things I knew I had, but forgotten about. Memories flooded back from the last few years, hidden or missed over this time.

I remember buying these 100 Chinese bike-tube patches for less than $2. I've only used 3 so far. I've biked many-a miles from my old apartment (>3000). My bike could tell stories, some of the ending with him getting extra care in our front little grass-patch, as I bandaged him up. But sure as a marine, he leaves no man (or woman) left behind: He's still my trusty transportation! 

I remember when I brought home the first orphan-flowers. Being thrown out at work, I brought them home 2.5 years ago amid snickers from coworkers. Their new home gave them soup-can or plastic-cup pots to stretch their roots into. Later they acquired real "clothes" of terra-cotta pots. Now, they bask in my new window, among other orphan plants, waiting for summer to blossom.

I remember when a Starbucks customer gave me a bag over the counter, saying the scarf was just perfect for me. What that meant, I had no idea until I opened it up on my break. Lo and behold! I pulled it out. And kept pulling it out. And Kept pulling it out! 11 feet later... yes eleven feet later, I found the other end with matching gloves and a hat!



And this scarf has come in hand this winter., I've been toasty warm in these winter years -okay months- of below freezing and negative temperatures with its long, long, long arms encircling me up to 4 times!

I remember when I rolled and stuffed posters into this tube before going on the bike trip to France. I was so certain that after I returned from France, I would be starting a new life teaching in Haiti. I wanted at least a few wall-memories to take with me along with some of my art. And here they are, I never did unroll them after that plan fell through, which turned out for the betterment of all. The pain has softened.



I remember countless nights in the dorm room with Heidi, Andrea, Kara, Allie, and so many others, drinking hot chocolate, tea, or just hot water from this little hot-pot. We learned and gained friends and sisters, character polishing and refining, tears and hugs: precious moments that are graven into my heart and life. And of course, keeping with tradition, our mood or need in that moment decided for which mug of meaning was used (or was offered by the others!). Life is fun and joy-filled, even with broken areas of us. Beauty and encouragement from multiple avenues. Chaos and simplicity, contrasts and strengths, and character amidst stress.




Beautiful blessings pop out everywhere when I take a moment look around. What blessings and memories has he brought to you?

Moving Musings

The Abbey. The Downtown Abbey of Chicago. Close to work, friends, and Lake Michigan. L tracks right next to us, ambulances at all hours of the night, and people everywhere. Flower baskets, Christmas lights, and anticipation in the air. The Abbey. A place of refuge for a college graduate. A haven for Child Care Worker turned barista. Rest for a tired soul. Home.

About three weeks ago, the situation became clear. I wasn't planning on it. I did not want to do it. But it was needed. I chose to move.

That last word slowed life to a halt. I was choosing to leave the home I knew, the location I loved. Reasons for moving were real and pressing.

But I don't like moving, even though I can pack a box with items to be moved so that there is no packing material needed, no corner left unused, and therefore using as few boxes as possible. Even though I know the boxes, how to label each and write it down to eliminate digging through 10 boxes for the 1 item I need. Even though I can stack odd-shaped boxes without wasting an inch of floor/car/moving space.

I have moved 11 times. This is #12. Moving is "old-hat." Outwardly excited, this time I get to set up my own apartment as I want. I get to be closer to my Chicago family. I get to establish new routines, find new grocery stores, and new favorite haunts.

Inwardly I dread moving and transitions. Apartment hunting and signing. Packing, actual moving, and the unpacking. Energy to begin new relationships. Strength to say goodbye well. Changing close relationships. Losing others. Being uncomfortable in new situations. Learning new social and neighborhood norms. I should think I'd have these skills down by now! I may have them honed, but I don't want to use them. Can I be normal for once and not have change in my life?

Or is change normal?

God never said life would have no changes. As He redeemed Israel from Egypt, He changed almost every aspect of life to reflect Himself in every-day activities. When Jesus came, He changed the world completely. Instead of just activities, He changed hearts and He created a new lifestyle. To be an ambassador of Him is to be changed continuously: being molded into a being more reflective of Him than before.

Change in inevitable.

And so is His Presence.

He is present in every change. Nothing happens without Him being there, allowing it, since He is "with [us], even to the end of the age." And if He is there, He is my strength to stand under the stressors. He is the comfort when my pain emerges. He is wisdom when my relationships change. He is understanding when new norms are confusing for me.

He shows His power if and when we look to Him for the strength. He shows His love when we ask for comfort. He shows His omniscience when we trust His wisdom.

"Sing joyfully to the LORD, you righteous; 

it is fitting for the upright to praise him.

For the word of the LORD is right and true;

He is faithful in all He does.

The LORD loves righteousness and justice;

the earth is full of His unfailing love.

"The plans of the LORD stand firm forever,

The purposes of his heart through all generations.

"We wait in hope for the LORD;

He is our help and our shield.

In Him our heartrs rejoice,

for we trust in His holy name.

"May your unfailing love rest upon us, O LORD

Even as we put our hope in You."

(Excerpts of Psalm 33)