Since I moved to Chicago I’ve been desiring to get out into the surrounding areas and explore more. Last semester in all my business I did not succeed at this goal. However, yesterday my Roomsmate sent me an e-mail with a link in it to an article that yahoo did on the 15 best coffee shops in Chicago and as I read through them I thought, this is exactly what I need to get me out of my rut.
So I have taken on the goal of trying all 15 of these coffee shops in the next five and a half months. It’s the perfect goal because my schedule is quite open on a lot of days of the week which means getting off campus and doing homework elsewhere is totally feasible. So I’ve also decided to document them as I go.
Today finds me at Ch’ava Cafe in Ravenswood. It was #2 on the list and I actually quite like it. Definitely more of a cafe than a traditional coffee shop, it has floor to ceiling windows which provides a bright atmosphere. They brew their coffees individually using a Clover machine (which, I believe, my good friend Eric uses at his coffee shop in Arvada, CO). The employees are super nice and friendly, the guy taking my order offered up a suggestion of which coffee for me to try.
The coffee itself was delicious, a little on the pricey side for a brewed cup (in my opinion), but we are in Chicago I guess. The decor is quite creative and modern. White walls with orange accents, which I loved, and a few murals of trees painted on the walls, which I also love. They have a full menu of salads, soups and sandwiches to go alongside the coffee and the smell and look of those are amazing.
Overall, I think this is a great little cafe. I would love to see what the vibe is like during a weekday when it’s not so busy with people enjoying their Saturdays. I will probably come back here but maybe more with friends for lunch than to study for any length of time, but who knows, the brightness of it really appeals to me.
be here now
I gave up making new years resolutions a long time ago. I never really felt like it was a great idea but I know that in elementary and middle school it’s a great ice breaker for teachers to use when you get back from break so I blame them for my feeling like I always needed to have at least two or three. But in my adult life I’ve given up on them and I haven’t looked back on that decision … until recently that is.
Don’t get me wrong, I didn’t make a resolution this year. But at church on Sunday our pastor challenged us with a new thought. She was talking through identity and introduced this idea of “one word” … she posed the question of “If you had to describe yourself in one word, what would it be? One word that says who you are?” The idea comes from the book Eat, Pray, Love which I read last year and this thought that every city has one word that describes it and that every person has one word that describes them. It can’t be a descriptor of what you DO … example, mine can’t be student or Pastor-in-training. Rather it’s supposed to be a word that describes who you are, not what you do.
Then, she posed the question of what is one word that you want to be about this year. One word, hopefully placed on your heart by God, that you want to have define your actions this year. It was an interesting thing to reflect on. She recognized that these words may take time to come to us, hers had taken a few weeks but that they’ll flush themselves out eventually if we seek them out and pray about it.
As for my words… my doing word for the year came almost instantly, but my being word…that’s coming slower. I have ideas about what it could be but I’m not sure yet I wanna put it out there this early in the stages. Instead I’ll share my doing word ….
After our pastor finished speaking and praying for us, I got the chance to just sort of sit in silence and almost immediately I had my word. It’s something I’ve struggled with for a long time and it’s the idea of being present. I’m a mental wanderer. I suspect that I have slight ADD tendencies but more so I think I just have too many ideas and thoughts running through my head. It is extremely easy to day dream in seminary which causes you to suddenly be at the end of class and wondering where the last hour and twenty minutes have gone.
I also have struggled in my relationships in being fully present at any given moment. It’s not an endearing quality I’m sure, and it is probably quite annoying. It even spills over into my relationship with God at times, I start to pray or spend time with him and my mind just drifts. I’m sure he just sort of rolls his eyes at me while my mind wanders and waits for me to come back to what I was thinking originally.
So this year, or maybe just this semester, I’m going to work hard on being present. Fully present in whatever situation I’m in at any given time. I want to be better at listening, really listening to people. I want to fully be present in class and glean wisdom from my professors and fellow classmates. I want to be fully present in church (which requires actually getting there, which is a sub-goal of mine). I want to be fully present with my roommates. Fully present with Emmett knowing that this year is going fast and next year I won’t be with him as much. I want to not let my mind daydream about situations that are not reality but to dream about things that can become a reality.
I’m not saying that I’m going to cure myself of absentmindedness in a year, but I’m hoping that by trying to tackle it hard I will be better eventually. I also hope to be better at blogging … it’s just so therapeutic to my soul to get my thoughts out there.
when I come home
When I moved to Chicago in August I took everything that I owned with me, meaning it left my room at my mom’s house up for grabs. Being the second biggest room in the house, it was a desired commodity. And it was snatched up by my lovely little 5 (and a half) year old niece. She relinquished the bed at least for this two week stint of my being home, however, the room is filled with her toys and movies and such. So while, it’s all the same furniture and the same general make-up of my former room. It is not my room.
Plus, I left a few very important items in Chicago. This all ends up with me feeling far away from home, even though I’m technically at home. It feels different. My routine is broken and I suddenly feel like a visitor. Like I’m on vacation… in the house that has been mine since I was about 16. It’s an odd feeling, knowing that so much has changed and yet stayed the same.
But, as vacations go, this one has been pretty spectacular.
First of all, my nieces are growing up so fast. Here are some of my favorite pics of them:
This is Benny. 5 1/2 years old and full of spunk. This picture is from Christmas Eve dinner at Chili’s. She’s such a precious little girl and I love being her Tia. She’s one of a kind. A real pistol.
And Bizzy. 4 months old today. Another precious little girl. She’s got me wrapped around her little finger. I will enjoy spoiling her for many many years to come. But don’t be fooled by that smile, this girl can scream. And that is no fun for anyone.
Another great highlight of being home is getting to go to the Broncos game with my brother:
The pic is blurry but there we are in all our game-going glory. Or shall I say him in his game going glory and me in my normalness. I painted his face in the car, a memory I will never forget as he made jokes about wearing make-up and how I wasn’t doing it right. But hey, at least the Broncos won right?
Speaking of the Broncos, here’s a picture snapped during warm-ups of my fav Tim Tebow. It was his second NFL start and he won the game with a great touchdown in the 4th quarter. It was a riveting game and although it means little for them because they’ve done so poorly this season, it was still fun to be there to watch him.
(Yes I realize this picture is bigger than the others…but only cause the object to be focused on is so far away)
So there’s a little bit of what I’ve been up to. Only thing missing is my beautiful goddaughter, with whom I’ve only snapped pictures with on my actual camera …so those photos have yet to be uploaded. Those are for the next blog…
Until then I leave you with this silly picture, taken with Benny my first day home. Enjoy!
and I will find you there and I will mend your heart
This title comes from the song “Mend Your Heart” by William Fitzsimmons. It is one of the songs that I have added to my epicly amazing playlist on Grooveshark that is entitled “paper writing excellence.” (See my facebook status for more info)
So I’m sitting in the library just now and I’m writing a paper on Matthew 6:9-15 which is more commonly known as The Lord’s Prayer. Now this paper has been weeks in the making. We wrote it in three parts, the first was just our interaction with the text. We had to read it and reply with no other books used than our bibles. The second stage was our research stage. We were to use 5 commentaries and do a words study with a theological dictionary. Finally we are on the third stage where we put together our thoughts and the thoughts of the scholars in order to write a comprehensive paper which we will be able to look back on if we ever need to preach on this topic.
So here I sit on the third floor of my beloved library (or cursed library, either way) typing away and sipping coffee when this line of this song slips through my thoughts and screams, “LISTEN TO ME.” So I pause, rewind the song and listen a little more intently to see what the song has for me. The song itself is about a girl and it’s a sad song (shockingly enough, a sad song by William Fitszsimmons – that’s sarcasm by the way, if you are unfamiliar with his library, it’s pretty much all depressingly sad.) The song isn’t necessarily applicable to every day life unless you are in a weird twisted relationship.
But there are a couple of lines in it that I found most intriguing. But mostly this line from the chorus, or should I say this line that IS the chorus. These two meager sentences repeated over and over make up the very simple chorus.
Before I go on to say the significance, let me share one more thing and then we’ll put it together. In my Theology and Film class this week we were talking about happiness and joy and the difference between the two. My professor was talking about the advent season. He pointed out that sometimes we are rejoicing vicariously for other people in our lives that are not in a place to rejoice. And sometimes we are rejoicing out of sheer obedience rather than actually feeling it, and that’s okay.
It hit me like a ton of bricks. I realized that last year I was going through the motions of Christmas, obviously it was a bitter sweet moment of unbearable pain of losing my dad and the joy of the birth of my Savior. I love Christmas, we all know this. But last season I was going through the motions and looking back on it I realized how guilty I felt for doing it so half-heartedly. But that’s okay. It’s okay because in those places of immense pain, God finds us and mends our hearts.
Last weekend was the one year anniversary of losing my dad, and as awful as the weekend was, it gave me the chance to tangibly look at the places where God has entered into my life and begun mending. He has blessed me in ways I never thought possible, he has provided a place for me, far away from home and the familiar to let my guard down and be me. And to be loved for who I am.
The thing is, I know that I never fully asked God to come in and mend my heart, he found me here. He is a faithful God and knew what I needed when all I could do was sit at his feet with no words. No clue what my heart needed and what I needed from him. I did nothing extraordinary, no clear seeking out answers for my pain, I just prayed for God to be real in this place. And he is. He found me, in this place and he began the work in me until I was ready to join in the effort.
un-believable. and yet so real I can’t help but believe.
won't you let me match your stride?
About a week and a half ago I went with my friend to get our nails done. Whenever I go to nail salon’s it’s usually with large groups of girls and almost always in the summer and only for pedicures. However, my friend knew a place with a cheap mani-pedi deal so alas, I found myself getting both a pedicure and a manicure.
Now here’s something you should know about me… I cannot remember the last time I got a manicure. Although I’m pretty sure it was when I lived in New Jersey meaning it was circa 1998. Furthermore I never paint my fingernails…ever. I don’t like the fact that it chips so easily and I think it’s pretty much a waste of time. But she talked me into it and so I went through with it.
I picked out a nice deep purple and sat to be pampered. I got done faster than my friend so I had some time to let my nails dry completely before having to drive us back to campus. This ended up being an extremely good thing considering I realized that I am not used to suddenly not being able to use my fingers fully. The thing with nail polish is that it dries relatively fast but then needs to sit for a while before it’s hardened (I think that’s the right terminology).
I kept hitting my fingers on things and then immediately pulling my hand to my face to survey the damage. My friend was getting pretty sick of me and finally said, “Leesh! You have to learn to be careful for a little while. You can’t fully use your hands yet!”
I suddenly had flash backs to my mom getting her nails done and then making me do things like look for her wallet, her keys, open the car door. Basically to me, my mom getting a manicure was equal to my becoming her servant for an afternoon. I stared down at my nails (one of which I had chipped getting into the car) and realized I was not this girl. I’m not the girl that gets her nails done and then is unable to care for herself all afternoon. I hate having the though, “what if it messed up my nails?”
Now I realize that that’s a hugely over dramatic statement. I know getting one manicure doesn’t make me that girl. But more and more being here, both in seminary and in this stage of life, that I am the girl that gets her hands dirty and can do anything for herself. I do not let myself be cared for. I try so hard to care for others well and I want so badly to help others but when I need to be cared for I just withdraw into myself and push others away.
For the past week and a half I’ve been trying to let people in, I’ve been trying to allow people to see me broken. I’ve been trying to let people care for me, realizing that they are imperfect the way I am imperfect. But being part of a community is allowing people to help you up when you feel like you cannot go on.
And I figured this all out after getting a manicure for the first time in 12 years. I just love the way God shows up in the little places.
oh come all ye faithful
I love Christmas. I love almost everything about it. And for the most part – it’s not about the presents. Although I will say that I love being able to pick out the perfect gifts for those I love the most.
Today I officially rang in the Christmas season in a couple of ways but mostly by my first viewing of Elf for the season. I’m not even really sure what I did before this movie came out to officially feel Christmas-y! But alas, I watched it today with my roommate Cathy, I assembled our Christmas tree which I bought this morning at Target (at 4 a.m.) and we are ready to go!
As always, the ringing in of the season finds me a little conflicted emotionally…a little melancholy and a lot joyful for what the season brings and means to me personally.
This season was hard for me last year, dealing with my dad’s death. I remember writing in my journal how much I hated the fact that I had to celebrate Christmas while being heartbroken. Christmas is a time of family and while traditions have been hard for a few years in my family there was always the hope that some day we would be able to celebrate as a whole family again. That hope ended quite suddenly for us, for me, last year and it was hard.
Last Sunday I was in Church listening to an amazing sermon by a fellow seminarian where he talked about the verses in Acts 20 where Paul is talking about going into Jerusalem even thought he knows not what he will find there. Paul writes the words: “but I do not account my life of any value nor as precious to myself, if only I may finish my course and the ministry that I received from the Lord Jesus, to testify the gospel of the grace of God.” (Acts 20:24 – ESV). Tom likened the verse to race metaphors and talked about how we aren’t finished with the race yet, and how amazingly it is that we have a God that is with us, that sends a Spirit to guide us when we are weary and tired and feel like we cannot go on. That our focus should be on finishing the course – the ministry that God has bestowed upon us.
So I sat there and suddenly realized … I am weary. I am tired. I am hurt. The week before had been extremely hard on me and I sat there last Sunday and began to put my finger on just where I was emotionally. I looked back on where I had been a year ago and realized that a year ago last Sunday I was in the midst of daily visits to the hospital. Waiting to hear news on what was going on with my dad and when he would regain consciousness – if it was going to happen. I sat in Church realizing just how broken I still am – looking forward to the one-year anniversary of losing my dad. And realizing that while I am surrounded by a lot of people that I love and love me, I feel alone in this big city. I realized that I miss my family more this year than in years past and that I was coming up on a holiday season that would be hard, once again.
Enter in Thanksgiving week. A lot of people left town – which doesn’t help the loneliness. And those that did stay around tried to keep me included but I have shrunk back, taking time to myself to figure out what the next week and a half is going to look like for me. I have a few choices – do I completely shut myself off from those around me and have a “dark day” ala Luke from Gilmore Girls? or do I attempt to live into this community around me and allow people to see the real me, even if it’s a little broken.
I pray that I would have the strength to fully engage here, to allow others to see the places in me that I don’t like. That I would allow myself to fully feel and experience the emotions that are totally normal and allowed in these circumstances.
Although all these …feelings… can be found just below the surface with me lately, I do also feel a certain kind of warm fuzziness that is Christmas cheer. I do love it oh so much and am hoping it will help me a long in this grieving process.
Mostly I believe in a God that is so much bigger than all this pain and he will see me through this pain and sorrow because He is a good God. He is a God who sent his Son to the earth for us, so that we would have someone who looked like us that we could follow. And for that reason I will celebrate the Christmas season, it is (when done well) a beautiful reminder of an unbelievably gracious God.
California girls, they're unforgetable
This is Roomsmate. She’s my second roommate who has joined the amazingness of the Ladies apartment. With most of my friends I don’t remember the moment we became friends but with Roomsmate, I do. We were at a breakfast on the second day of orientation and I walked up to her and we decided to walk together to Starbucks and her house before our next event. From that moment on, we’ve been friends.
Roomsmate and I have a lot in common. We like a lot of the same things, not all the same things but a lot of the same things. She shares my love for the Gilmore Girls, the Office and Diet Dr Pepper. We both have a heart for youth ministry and we both love to sing anything and everything at the top of our lungs at any given moment of the day.
She’s outgoing, beautiful, thoughtful, caring, super smart and basically makes my life better everyday. She is one of the few people I’ve met at Seminary that I can let my guard down and be real with. Sometimes we don’t even have to talk. She finishes my sentences and enjoys my hilarious jokes.
She is a wonderful woman of God and I am unbelievably blessed to have her as part of my Seminary life and to have her as my newest roommate.
Today is the perfect example of our friendship and our interactions together. Roomsmate moved in about two and a half weeks ago and continuously commented on how we didn’t have any seating in our front room as well as the fact that we have a TV and everything to hook it up but it hasn’t been hooked up at all. So today we come home from church and Roomsmate decides to be in project mode. She took me down to the basement storage area and we picked out two love seats and then she went to one of the guys’ apartments and requested their assistance. Within 2 hours we had two love seats vaccuumed and fabreezed, our TV hooked up to basic cable and we were reclining watching football. It was glorious.
Maybe one of the funniest parts though was the fact that I had been putting off hooking up our TV because I kept saying I didn’t really watch much TV and Roomsmate’s the one who wanted it so badly. Then Roomsmate goes through all the trouble to hook it up and we end up watching football – which Hilary does not enjoy but I do.
She’s a good roommate and an even better friend. I like her … a lot.
So there ya have it, you’ve now met both my roommates here in Seminary. More to come about both of them I am sure.
I was made for sunny days
There are few things in this world that I truly, truly love with all my heart. (emphasis placed on things as opposed to people). A few of them would include coffee (duh), good books, music, laughter, and experiences that stretch you in your understanding of life. Even though I am exhausted after this past weekend, I look back and see that I had all of these things and it makes my heart swell with love and unbelief that I get to live this life.
If you talked to me at all last week, you would know that I was pretty stressed out. In terms of school work I had two papers due and a midterm. Plus I was putting together final details for the worship portion of the University Ministries Women’s Retreat we had Friday into Saturday. I was busy and stressed and probably took it out on those closest to me (sorry Hil!)
But Friday night came and after everything had gone like a roller coaster of good and bad, I sat down at the piano and looked out at the room of about 60 undergrad women and I felt extremely blessed and in awe of the fact that I got to be a part of this weekend. Our theme was “Becoming Unbound” and our focus was on how to step into the freedom of Christ and become unbound. Worship didn’t go perfectly but it went well and I was stretched. I had never led worship before and I’ve learned a few things which is always good. It was a great experience and it was really amazing to hear all the women’s stories of where they are at in this journey of stepping into the life that God has created for us.
I came home from the retreat on Saturday early evening and walked into a transformed apartment which was being prepped for our Halloween party. Soon enough the whole apartment was buzzing with music, dancing and laughter. It was a great time and I got to see sides of people that I haven’t seen before. I really enjoyed this time with my seminary friends and I laughed more that night than I have in a long time.
However, I did have to leave the party early in order to make it to the WEEPIES CONCERT! A few good friends had driven up from Kansas City to attend with me and it was amazing. It was just a really good show by one of my favorites artists. They told stories and laughed and played from their hearts. I even bought a t-shirt with whales on it…so fun!
Sunday was a day of paying the piper though. I had to get reorganized, do laundry and think forward to the week ahead – plus clean up the massive mess left from the party. However I did it all in the company of my lovely newest roommate Hilary and that made everything feel so much better. Next blog is gonna be all about her, she’s fantastica!
So that was my weekend. God had truly blessed me in my life here in Chicago. I stand in awe at all the ways he’s provided for me everything I wanted and needed but couldn’t put words to.
I need a language as large as this longing inside
Yesterday I was sitting in my Greek Exegesis class and our professor shared something magical with us. (You should probably know that this particular class just might be my favorite because of our professor, the content and my classmates).
So we were learning about the definite article and it’s various forms in Greek, sounds amazing right? One of my classmates asked the question, “I understand when we talk about it in here, but when I’m in the library struggling through the text, how am I supposed to recognize/remember all of this?” That’s when our professor smiled and gave us this comparison.
He said that at his optometrist’s office they have a Magic Eye. Remember those from childhood? Those pictures that look like nonsense until you look at them in just the right way and all of the sudden a 3-D image pops out? Well he talked about how sometimes he can see it and other time he can’t make his eyes do the magic trick and it goes back to looking like squiggly lines.
He likened this to our study of scripture. His purpose in teaching this class is that we can understand these little nuances of scripture and what they mean. When we look at scripture knowing all these little things then suddenly these 2000 year old words pop and have color and contour. It’s not about being able to understand it totally a hundred percent every time but that when we read about it in commentaries and such we can point back and say, oh yeah, that’s what that means.
The thing about Seminary is that sometimes it is super hard and I feel like I’m not getting it or that particular lesson means nothing in my life. But it’s not true, I’m learning how to see Scripture / God / the world differently.
He also told us that he hopes we would have the Magic Eye to see the world in this way and be able to point to it for our congregations. That’s it’s not about helping them understand the grammar of the Greek (please let me never be that pastor) but more so what that means in their lives. We are going to this school in order to help people encounter God in new and engaging ways. And that is super cool.
So, despite the fact that I am unbelievably stressed right now about midterms and papers and retreat and the likes, I am learning how to fine-tune my eye and to see life in a new way. And I like that.
just happy to be here, I'm happy to know you
Last weekend I finally got to go home and meet my niecey-niece. Her name is Bizzy (if you remember) and despite what it looks like in this picture, she actually loves me a lot. This picture is gonna be one of those ones that goes down in history as an all time greatest display of her and me. I love it. It’s going in her wedding slide show someday.
Being home was great. I got to spend some time with some of my favorites, including craft time with Jre and Penelope, lunch with the Vogts and of course a great Nina-Goddaughter date.
The other great thing I got to do while being at home was that I had the privilege of baptizing Goddaughter. It was a beautiful moment in my life to be able to hear my goddaughter confess her faith in Jesus and then to be able to baptize her myself. It was an honor, not that it was about me. I was such a proud Nina standing there in the water with her and watching her own her faith. I’ve prayed for this day and for many more where she is able to stand up in front of her peers and loved ones and confess her faith in Christ. It was a moment unlike any other in my life and I was in awe of God’s great grace that I was able to experience it.
So, going home, that was the first half of fall break. Then I was back in Chicago for precisely 29 hours before jumping in the car with ~6 seminary friends and driving 3.5 hours to Muskegon, MI. “home” sweet “home” for Alicia. We’ve been staying with my good friend Becky and just enjoying fall in Muskegon.
Being back here makes me reflect a lot on the last three years. It was three years ago that I lived here, did ministry here, called this place home. It’s been three years since I’ve been back and these couple of days here have been a flood of memories of my time here. Tonight I let all the others go to Grand Haven for a night on the town and I stayed back, visited and caught up with Brenda (my “other” mom) and just spent time reflecting. I looked back on this very blog and read these words, dated September 1, 2007:
“I was sitting on the beach the other night, journaling and praying as the sun set beyond the hugeness that is the lake. And as I watched the sun go down I prayed harder than I have in a long time and I felt like my heart was going to fall out of my chest. But the thing that saves me everytime is the knowledge that God is so much bigger than all this pain I’m feeling and through Him I get the strength to stand up, brush the sand off my pants and walk away.”
Today I stood on the beach next to Roomsmate looking out at the vastness that is Lake Michigan and I remembered that night. I told Roomsmate about how I used to go to the beach and have my time with God. I see God the best (at times) in Creation. In seeing what He created for us. I stood there today looking out and thought about all the ways God has blessed me and pushed me in the last few years. I stood there and thought about the tears shed on this sand all those years ago. I thought back on all the heartache and rough patches that He has brought me through to this moment and I smiled. I am truly thankful for a God that is big enough to handle the pain and sorrow in my life in the same way he rejoices in the joys and celebrations.
In some ways I am the same 22-year-old girl that stood on that same shore 3 years ago and in other ways I’m not. Being back here has taught me just how vastly different I am these days, but in a good way. I am thankful for the place that I am in. I am just where I belong.
More thoughts to come on various aspects of my life but for now hear this… I am still struggling through a lot of dealing with my dad’s life and death. But at the end of the day I look around at those who surround me and realize that God is good to me, and that’s enough for me.