The World Couldn't Wait for OTR

This weekend, now fading, I went to hear one of my favorite bands play in Chicago. (This time of year it seems "everyone" is coming to town. Between the box office and concerts, it's one big media buzz in this grand town.) Over The Rhine has been a favorite of mine for 6-7 years now (with last night's concert being the 6th that I've seen) and I think it should be/become one of your favorites, too. Six years is a mere sliver of time compared with the time this husband-wife duo has been making music. January 2009 will mark their 20 year of making and recording music and touring together. It's not simply that we share an am amateur, but...

...well, see for yourself. It was Karin's birthday yesterday and she asked her husband to do this steamy number for her. This is one great pick from the evening; lyrics aside, I think every part of this song comes together to make for a quality, catchy little number


YouTube rarely does any musician justice, but for kicks here's another:

My friend and I decided, that while Chicago's Double Door location where OTR played last night is a simplyh fine venue you for some bands, musicians, and DJs, it's not a great venue for OTR. This crowded, standing-room only venue is a hard place for this gal in heels to stand for 3.5 hours, pressed up against some big, sweaty guy. OTR played at the Old Town School of Folk Music last year. Much better venue for this kind of music that makes you want to take a seat, close your eyes and just listening. So much of their music is spiritual and meditative; the cramped, motorcycle bar-feel of Double Door simply doesn't cater to.

I Rest My Case - Apparently Not

Back a week or two ago, I wrote you this story...

"She opened her Box for me to listen on an unseasonably warm October day. She held true to the stories told throughout the ages of being made for the gods by the gods with great and wonderful gifts. She left us with a box - a box filled with hope. Thanks for this website. :http://www.pandora.com/ you can crack open it's top and listen in..like I did, one particularly frustrating afternoon. Out of it came this tune from a voice I've fallen for...

Mr. Peter Bradley Adams was first with East Mountain South, who toured with Tracy Chapman in 2003.

It seemed to me, as I listened to his latest record "Leavetaking", there was a theme of rest and of sleep. Whether it was "Lay My Head Down" or "Los Angeles", which tells the story of the City of Angels, or "Teresa", which speaks of a modern-day saint, this man understood that with age comes responsibility and with responsibility comes inhibitions to refreshing sleep or an afternoon nap. Even, perhaps, a deep rest - a rest that knows there is, indeed, One who bears life's burdens and allows us the solitude we need in the midst of chaos and frustration.

So, when I saw Mr. Adams in concert last week I had to talk to him, sure that he would exclaim, "You are the first one to recognize that undertone. Yes!" And then, we would launch into some great philosophical, maybe even God-centered conversation. But, no. The conversation didn't go that way. So, as to not embarrass he or I, I leave the story of our inability to communicate in a loud bar by simply saying, I am "sleeping tight" these days. And, that's enough to make for a good story ending.


Making a long story short, this hasn't been the open-and-shut case I thought it would be. Thanks to a friend and, what I believe was probably, Google Alert, I (or was it Peter? Depends on how you look at it) got a second chance. This time the question was met with a far more desirable and indeed, thorough answer. :wink: Here's a little excerpt from him within our longer conversation.

Mr. Peter: you're totally right about the "resting" theme...one song you didn't mention is "Keep Us" which i think is the most pointed... It seems like all my love songs have that idea of someone being broken or worn down and being held up by the other. like the connection is almost... I've never tried to articulate it [the connection] (except writing the songs) but i guess it speaks to a kind of longing. a kind of melancholy...

So, I got my answer! Thought I'd let you all know. Thanks, Peter!

I am 'Obama' Video

I encourage you to watch this video and I highly encourage you to comment. I will express my opinion on this in the comment section at a later time as well.

Obama vs. McCain Dance Off

Two Different Kinds of "Smile!"

No, I'm not talking Candid Camera. Not in the least.

I'm talking about two different encounters I've had with "Smile!" this week. Let me explain...

...Last Wednesday night at a concert, as my friend and I were ducking out before the encore to avoid the rush, a large man with a grizzly beard (yes, Mark, a grizzly beard) stopped me in my haste. A little startled, not the least by the foul order of beer on his breath and now beer breath in my face, I looked up.
"Put a smile on that beautiful face of yours," he said.

I wanted to slap him! I don't know one person who, when they get told by a random stranger to smile then, smiles in fact because of it. Not one! I hate it. It's the first way to make an enemy...in my book, at least. Don't you agree?

Fast-forward two days later. I'm getting on I-94 and, like the bottom of many highway ramps in Chicago, is standing a homeless man. I glanced over at his cardboard sign, if only to oblige him. The note on the cardboard startled me. It wasn't an ask for money or for a prayer. It was an ask for a smile. Not only did I smile, I laughed out loud. He smiled back, then laughed back. Before I know it, while sitting at this red light, blocked only by my window I was laughing out loud with this random, homeless stranger. It felt so good. Just to laugh. That's all he wanted. Not food or money or prayer. Just...simply...to laugh, to smile. It was a truly reciprocal gift.

Sunshine Prayer Request

As some of you know...

Each of the staff members are asking their friends and family to pray for Sunshine. Over the past week we've had an inordinate amount of gunfire in our community - Chicago's south side community of Woodlawn. After literally dozens of close class, include a couple of our windows being shot out, yesterday evening a young man was shot and killed a block from us.

It appears this shooting and subsequent homicide are a part of a war among gang factions fighting for turf around our building (literally, we are in the CENTER of all the craziness!). This uptick in violence that could potentially last for some time.

This morning we prayed as a staff about the activity as well as discussed what we might do it intervene. Corporately we've agreed on several steps, which include hosting community meetings, beefing up our physical presence in the neighborhood, driving our program participants home at night, AND being frank with friends to pray. Specifically we pray for safety and for wisdom as to how and where to intervene.

Thank you all, in advance! :-)

GOOD!

I first learned of GOOD magazine back in (I think) March when its founder, Max Shorr, came to a Young Professionals of Chicago event to speak about his young entrepreneurial nack and inspire others in the room to do the same. GOOD is an "integrated media platform for people who want to live well and do good. We are a company and community for the people, businesses, and NGOs moving the world forward. GOOD's mission is to provide content, experiences, and utilities to serve this community. GOOD currently produces a website, videos, live events, and a print magazine. Launched in September 2006, the company has garnered praise for its unique editorial perspective and fresh visual aesthetic and is quickly positioning itself as a significant new voice in our culture." Like I said, it was the founder and his promotion of the magazine that I was first introduced to.

The popularity of the GOOD name has taken off in the last year. Stores like Whole Foods now tout the magazine's name and online social centers like Metromix are following the company and its events, of which was recently one in Chicago which, coincidentally (not!) I attended. Heck, the event cost was applied toward a "complimentary" subscription to the magazine and "free" open bar for the night. It was a win, win, win!

The company is continuing to expand its platforms to increase dialogue in public sphere about a variety of environmental, local & global issues. Today they released a new conversation platform called, GOOD.is. Click Here. The platform was built for the exchange of ideas. The main page now features 5 easy-to-navigate tabs for browsing.

While you're at it, check out pictures of Stephanie and I at the photobooth. Click Here. And, pictures on Flickr of the event. Click Here. You'll be sorry you missed it. That's okay. Hopefully, there will be more.)

An Olive Branch Grows

This morning I was reading the latest edition of Sojourners magazine that came in my mail. The editions contains an article entitled, "An Olive Branch Grows in Africa", which interviews George Kit, a coordinator for the Nairobi Peace Initiative - Africa, who has been working on a listening project to reconcile Kenyans divided by ethnic and political differences, particularly poignant after recent outbreak of violence spurred by their presidential election. NPI's "listening project" entails go out to those people of both sides of political divide and listening to their stories, "to hear what sence they made of the particular violence that as going on." At times this has meant reporting plans of violence NPI has become privy to and stopping the violence before it even takes place.

The project has started to go beyond just listening and now the organization is utilizing a number of (pyschological) tools and exercises to help people analyze their own actions, their own contribution to violence, based on their stereotypes. Some of the exercises seek to mirror the terms and ways we can destroy each other and the pain and destruction that brings. Kit gives the example of an exercise in which they ask people to create painings. In the next step, they select which paintings look alike and form a group out of those paintings. Participants were to prepare a better picture of out of the compilation of paintings and finally, make a presentation of their work. People always get engaged in working together and have put together some wonderful pictures. They don't anticipate the next step...to destroy the paintings. If they don't do it on their own with coaxing then, the instructors will begin doing it for them. Participants become incredulous at the ease with which the instrustors destroy the pieces as if the paintings didn't take any effort to complete.

The exercise is to be viewed as a symbol of life, that people have built their story over a long period of time, and during crisis lives with great aspirations have been torn apart as if that life didn't matter. The kind of reaction and the kind of sharing that comes out of that exercise - that experience - begins to draw people out, creating an envirnonment of healing and reconciliation in which people speak frankly and honestly about the pain they have experienced when people don't take seriously the life they have worked hard to create.

The story of this exercise reminded me of an "excerise", or event, I underwent with similar results. It was at the Hyde Park Art Center several months ago. Every 3rd Friday of the month the Center holds a "Cocktails and Clay" evening wherein they open up their ceramics studio for folks to get dirty, make a creation, and have a few drinks. I went with my neighbor Christina and we encountered a few surprises throughout the evening. For one, the $15 is a suggested donation and doesn't include drinks. Their drinks are served in 8 oz. plastic cups and are $5-10 - a complete rip off. $25 later you walk into the ceramics studio. I, for one, was quite excited. I had been years since I'd found myself at the wheel creating a pot or bowl or pitcher.... Guess what? No wheels...we were simply given a large ball of clay and some water. The kind of thing your art teacher gave you and then, instructed you to create a pinch pot with. I was sorely disappointed...and so was Christina, who takes weekly ceramics classes and is quite skilled on the wheel.

The surprises continued. Pinch-pots weren't exactly the item of the evening; instead, crowns! We were to create crowns of any variety. Examples of the instructors creative crowns sat in the middle of the table. Crowns?!! Not exactly what I'd planned on. Nonetheless, I created the wickedest crown. I was quite proud of myself, particularly for somebody who hadn't dabbled in ceramics for years. I was so proud of myself I had convinced myself to sign up for their next ceramics class. Surely I'd be the best in the class (right?!)!

An hour later our session came to a close with the final surprise...to destroy the crown and place all the clay back in the ball. No!!! They weren't going to fire them. We couldn't come back in a week to pick them up. The $15 suggested donation was to keep the lights in the building on and pay the janitor to keep the place clean and pay the mortgage....

My point is not to knock the Art Center. I thought their antics were pretty clever. We hadn't asked if we would be able to bring home the final project. I could relate to the increduality that the participants of the NPI-Africa exercise felt. The lesson remains true....it's easy to feel self-pity for the plans and notions of ours that others may flippantly come by and destroy, but we don't often reflect on the plans of others we, too, are capable of flippantly destroying, making fun of, or failing to encourage.

Barack Obama - NAACP Speech

Jason Upton - Burning

EXTREMELY convicting, but hopefully, equally as encouraging to you.

"Some of us are intoxicated by the words of men. It's like we're addicted. When we don't hear it, it's like we can't even live. But, you know, God has a voice, too. He doesn't magnify it. He whispers it. 'You are my beloved'."

Jason just might be my favorite independent Christian artist. Thanks to Mark's suggestion, I'm going to start posting more music.

Refinished

I love refinishing furniture. I don't do it nearly enough. There is something so satisfying in taking something that's old and turning into something new. So exhilarating. The transformation from lifeless, rugged, bruised, battered, good-for-nothing, and ready-for-Goodwill-or-the-garage-sale made into something noteworthy, unique, and to be proud of.

That's how I feel about my latest endeavor - the refinishing of my dresser. My dresser has untold stories. I know it does because half its hardware was missing when I got it. The remaining hardware was completely mismatched. I figure it's had a few owners and that the last few were sure they'd be the last. But, then, they found a friend who said, "no, don't throw it out. I'll take it." That same person then gave it to another friend who begged and pleaded with them, "no, don't throw it out. I'll take it" and on down the line. I'm the next in line. But, this time I was determined to take this good-for-nothing dresser and turn it into something people would say, "I'll buy that from you." A wanted piece. Don't we all want to be wanted. Dressers are no exceptions. Trust me. :wink:

So, Memorial Day weekend was baptism weekend for my dresser. It was the weekend it was stripped and sanded, stained, buffed, polish, stained, buffed, and polished again. Here he is:

Before.




And now.




It was fun breathing new life into Mr. Dresser. He's inspired me to do the same with other pieces of furniture.

Grandmothers on Facebook

I've found Beth's Blog a valuable resource in my communications and development work with non-profits. I encourage you to check out her blog. She cracks me up sometimes with the things she says, the videos and anecdotes that she finds. Here is one from a couple days ago, I think those savvy in Web 2.0 will get a kick out of.


http://view.break.com/512971 - Watch more free videos

Amazing Grace Played on the Black Notes!

Wintley Phipps....
Hallelujah!

I'm grateful to Peter Cockrell and his blog "Already Not Yet" who believes reformed theology and the charismatic experience must be brought together. He's not alone in his belief.

Exceptions to the "No Scroll" Rule

So, I have no new direction with this blog. I'm afraid the solution is multiple blogs. But, in the meantime...

This evening I went to a presentation on e-mail marketing. It's something that I do at Sunshine and something that we, meaning Sunshine, and I could always use to improve.

One of the biggest lessons we have more recently taken to heart is the "no scrolling" rule. The rule simply states that whatever promotional, information, event-driven e-mail you send out should not required the recipient to scroll the page in order to view the most important information.

After the presentation, a couple of the other attenders and I spoke about what that has meant for our respective organizations or companies. Each of us seemed to have a story about how we overhauled our e-mail blasts, which accommodated this rule. BUT, each of us could also think of an e-blast or two that we enjoy that IS long and that we do actually spend the time to scroll through.

For me, the e-newsletter is ePistle. And now, I'm going to make a little plug for it. ePistle is published by the Evangelicals for Social Action. The organization is closely tied in with Sojourners. Putting aside any reactions to Sojourners or Jim Wallis (I'll have you know I'm a fan of the man, but like 75% of the stuff published by his organization.), ePistle presents insightful, multi-generational, relevant articles which apply the Christian faith to all sorts of everyday topics. The newsletter also takes readers the sites of non-profits that are taking a unique approach to a problem, blogs, upcoming conferences, speakers, motivators... Needless to say, I highly recommend that you check out ePistle.

The presentation attenders and I couldn't figure out what the common denominator was to these rule exceptions other than their content was "interesting" to us. Maybe you can help me out. Do you receive any periodic e-mails for companies or organizations that don't abide by the "no scroll" rule, but you have chosen to forgive them and, even more, fiercely condone the behavior? If so, why have you pardoned them?

Directionless

I'm beginning to feel like my blog needs to take a particular direction. It all started when someone I know commented about a friend's blog, "Yeah, I'd read it more if it wasn't just an expose on their life and, if they had some significant contribution of thought to add." I'll have you know I don't remember who made this comment or whose blog they were speaking about (that's probably a good thing since that wasn't a very kind comment), nonetheless, it started me thinking about the blogs I follow, why I follow them, and so on. In all honesty, I get bored with the ones that aren't witty, or insightful, or controversial.

I feel like I need a blog related to faith, another one on non-profit development work, another one on Chicago findings, and one on good books. (And I'm probably forgetting a couple topics.) Do I establish separate "corners" to this blog? Or, do I start four more blogs? That's a lot of work. I don't know. :shrugs:

I always have some excuse NOT to blog and frankly, this person's comment has me all self-conscious and apathetic about blogging.

Any thoughts?

My Latest Favorite

Birthday BASH

I tell you, I am really am blessed to have such a great group of friends around me here in the city. I turned 24 this past week and since the gang is always looking for an excuse to party, my birthday and the birthday of the pal, Steph, was ample excuse for a double-night birthday extravaganza.

Friday was just ladies' night and started with an Italian dinner at my place in the ... East Pilsen Artist Colony (remember?!) and then on to some of the great bars of Wicker Park.

Saturday was WeeGees in Logan Square with a co-ed group of hipsters. Contrary to Friday night, pictures keep rolling in.


We have found that Scott really likes to blink in pictures.



College friend, Val, came in from Boston for the event! Ah! So cool!



And, I guess it's always safe to say that Josh, the resident pilot on hand, also flew in for the event.



I admit to just liking this one. Scott has been such a friend this year!





Birthday girls. Perhaps we are singing.


Brian, this one is for you.

How Are The Children?

At a recent development conference the I attended in L.A. - a conference put on by the federal Department of Justice for grassroots faith-based initiatives, Rev. W.Wilson Goode, from the Amachi Organization in Philadelphia and former major of the city, gave a lunchtime keynote address that knocked the ball out of the park. Reverend Wilson has accumulated much success in his days as a leader of a non-profit, growing a small organization to a substantially large organization today which mentors children of convicts. It's people like Rev. Wilson who have "been in trenches" of non-profit grassroots work who have the great ability to encourage those who aren't yet quite out of the "trenches" and who are still wearing the zillion office hats.

Rev. Wilson was asked to speak on ten lessons that he has learned in his time in non-profit management. To emphasize his points he told several great stories; there are a handful that I still remember.

He told the story of the Masai tribe in Kenya that is known throughout the region for their fierceness. However, their traditional greeting amongst themselves (equivalent to our "Good Morning...Afternoon...Night") is the question, "How are the children?" The question alludes to the notion that the well-being of the tribe's children meters the well-being of the entire tribe. Even those who do not have their own children traditionally answer "The children are well".

Rev. Wilson made the point that, unfortunately, if you took that same question and applied it our tribe of Americans we could not honestly reply, "The children are well". There are still too many children "coming from homes of dope rather than homes of hope" to be able to affirmatively respond.

So, while our recent war in Iraq may show that Americans and the Masai share a drive for militia might, we haven't yet adopted care for our communities, and the institutions that make them up, that translates into an intimate, individual heartache for those around us.

Just How Many of You?

HowManyOfMe.com

There are 32 people with my name in the U.S.A. How many have your name?

David Cook - Little Sparrow

He can do no wrong!

Old Spice

Oh, Mark, this is too much.

Little Will Farrell spoof for y'all. It's great...

David Cook - American Idol Top 10

Keeping you posted on my favorite!

Stuff I Like

If you haven't yet, you must check out the comedic blog, "Stuff White People Like".

Adam Sternbergh of the New Republic said it well, "A few observers have already pointed out, rightly, that Stuff White People Like isn't about white people in general, but rather about a very specific demographic sliver of left-leaning, city-dwelling white folk--in other words, people like me. These people have previously been trapped and tagged alternately as yuppies, or Bobos, or ...Basically, they embody the uneasy marriage of urban affluence and liberal (and/or progressive, and/or alternative, and/or "indie") ideals. For example, there are plenty of white people in America who fairly obviously don't like (#15) yoga or (#46) The Sunday New York Times or (#28) not having a TV. But it's much funnier and, at least on its face, more original to say "White People" rather than "Yuppies..."

Click here to read the rest of the article.

If you aren't in a mood to feel exposed, I wouldn't click on the link. But, if you are or, if your able to see truth even in large sweeping generalizations then, click away. Your in for a laugh.

My personal favorites:
#88 Having Gay Friends
#62 Knowing What's Good for Poor People
#12 Non-Profit Organizations
#80 The Idea of Soccer

Traditionalism Re-Emerges

Recently there have been a couple of lengthy articles in notable periodicals which spoke of the growing trend within the Protestant church toward traditionalism. The Church is renewing itself, this time not by dissing tradition as it did 100 years ago, but by embracing the liturgical and sacramental tradition of former generations. It seems Protestant congregations, particularly those in America and particularly those which reaching a demographic of 20-40somethings, are reevaluating their abandonment of traditionalism. Allow these authors to create context...

The first was printed in the U.S. News & World Report. Click Here.

To piggy-back onto this was a recent article in the Boston Globe. Click here.

Heightened social awareness, owed to globalization, media coverage, and perhaps the prophetic (a word I'm using casually) voices of Christian leaders like N.T.Wright, Jim Wallis, Fredrick Buechner and so forth, within the church has us looking to the previous church leadership who did it perhaps did "it" better - the people who lived among the people. The Catholic, Episcopalian, and Anglican priests and monks. Men and women whose adherence to scripted prayers (like the Book of Common Prayer), to following the Lenten calendar, to frequently partaking of the Lord's Supper did not prevent them from, necessarily, engaging with the social needs around them. An important fact for young Americans bent on being a civicly aware people.

This whole conversation topic is of interest to me because my church, Grace Chicago, began just five years ago almost as case and point of this increasing desire on the part of Jesus-believers to returned to a, albeit reformed, traditionalism. Our Sunday church service intentionally follows a narrative movement. Each week the story of Jesus’ life, death, and resurrection is retold a different way. Those who follow Jesus in faith and repentance meet the risen Lord in the sacrament of communion. The liturgy leading up to communion is anticipatory of Jesus’ redemptive (final) work in history. In a similar way, our music is a collection of eclectic styles and traditions alongside Scripture readings, homily, and other spoken words.

Also, as a church community we observe the Church calendar with its seasons of Advent, Epiphany, Lent, and Easter. We do this to help each other remember the redemptive rhythm of God’s presence in our lives. In any given day we metaphorically travel through these seasons as we grapple with grief, doubt, and temptation, and also celebrate joy and hope.


I can't help but think the depth, the beefiness, the profoundness of the liturgies of an earlier church coupled with a greater emphasis on the graciousness of the person of Christ has and will continue to minister to the current generation, and perhaps the next generation or two. It seems our generation feels a void left by disillusionment with the mainstream evangelical and mega-churches and by a Catholic Church that, on-the-whole, denies the necessity of a meaningful personal relationship with Jesus Christ.

With No Further Ado...

check out: www.sunshinegospel.org
Yeah!!!!!!!!!!!!!

My American Idol Pick

I was just explaining to someone this evening that I don't follow seasons of American Idol with any particular rhyme or reason. But, I've chosen, for whatever reason, to pop in on this season. And here is my pick...

This Time

For we have a choice in this country. We can accept a politics that breeds division, and conflict, and cynicism. We can tackle race only as spectacle - as we did in the OJ trial - or in the wake of tragedy, as we did in the aftermath of Katrina - or as fodder for the nightly news. We can play Reverend Wright's sermons on every channel, every day and talk about them from now until the election, and make the only question in this campaign whether or not the American people think that I somehow believe or sympathize with his most offensive words. We can pounce on some gaffe by a Hillary supporter as evidence that she's playing the race card, or we can speculate on whether white men will all flock to John McCain in the general election regardless of his policies.

We can do that.

But if we do, I can tell you that in the next election, we'll be talking about some other distraction. And then another one. And then another one. And nothing will change.

That is one option. Or, at this moment, in this election, we can come together and say, "Not this time." This time...

The Corner

...of Roosevelt and Michigan the other night. Sometimes I just can't help myself; driving can't be a hindrance to taking a good picture.

They've Chosen Innocence

(a thought in process...)

I've become so aware, when I speak with people about my job, of what keeps me continually engaged and motivated in my work. It's the people - the people of the Woodlawn neighorbood. The single mom who comes into our office to pick up an application for her child to join our after-school program, so often exclaiming that this is the very thing she'd hoped would come to town. The older gentleman with the fuzzy hat and a warm smile, excited about learning new things in our technology class. The smart yet spunky fourth-grade girl who I read with every Tuesday afternoon. It's these people, and many more, whose constant, admittedly interruptive, "hello" keeps me energized.

However, it's more than just their presence and their various personalities that I so enjoy. My love and admiration for them is more about a choice so many of them have made (perhaps a subconscious choice). They have chosen innocence.

Now I know this may confuse many of you or, seem ironic to those of you who know of Woodlawn's demographic. Woodlawn is a predominately low-income (some would use the phrase "economically marginalized) place. A neighborhood struggling to break cycles of poverty and violence. A place weary of waging battle against institutional racism. A place of much transience and much vulnerability. These things are true about the community but, what's also true is that so many of these people possess a will (power) that marks them.

See, I've come to believe in the last 18 months that innocence is a choice - a choice not to be confused with naivity, ignorance, inexperience, or immaturity. Innocence is not not limp or wimpy, as it's so often meant to connote; rather, it's silently strong and posseses perseverance. Innocence is a daily decision - a decision which tightly bundles hope and forgiveness with life experience.

Unfortunately, many of the young students in our programs have seen things their eyes were never supposed to witness. That man has been told words and had experiences that those who have never undergone racial oppression will ever be able to relate to. That mother may indeed be juggling responsibilities too great for the resources she has. But, in so many of their eyes there is great innocence. Perhaps this innocence is better understood as a faith that there is some thing, some place better than the present place. That it all (whatever "all" is. I'd let them fill in the blank.) will pass and it will "all" work out.

I'm convinced it's this innocence that Jesus needed a drink from when he called the children to himself after a long day of teaching. The very same innocence spoken of only moments later when Jesus exhorted the adults around him to make note of. These children possessed innocence.

The people of Woodlawn have taught me that no matter the sights I see, the experiences I've had or will have, or the injustice I encounter, I too have a choice. Each day I have a choice. Woodlawn is teaching me that life is much sweeter if I choose innocence.

So many people claim to believe in the Resurrection, and yet it means so little to them. It has no effect in their lives. It is not enough to celebrate Easter and say “Christ is risen!” Indeed, it is useless to proclaim it at all, unless at the same time we can say that we too have risen.

The long passage of time has brought with it a temptation to keep on speaking about Good Friday without being moved by it. We hear about Christ’s death, and we sit there bored, as if we were reading a newspaper. In fact, we would find a newspaper a good deal more interesting.

- C. F. Blumhardt in Bread and Wine: Readings for Lent and Easter (Orbis, 2005)

The 3-Dimensions of U2

If you haven't heard about it already, let me be the bearer of some cool news. National Geographic put together a 85-minute, 3-D film of U2 concerts which are playing national surely, at the IMAX near you.

http://www.u23dmovie.com/images/multimedia/downloads/U23D_Trailer_484x272.mov

I highly recommend that you spend the $16 to see the film. It's an experience, for sure! (And, I highly recommend you take a nap before going or, plan to take a nap afterwards. A bit of over-stimulation!)

The film makes you feel like you are a front-row fan at the concert and at times, could even touch Bono with your own two hands. Combine this with the inherent amazing acoustics of IMAX theatres...you've got a great date night planned!

Hillary Clinton and Josh Groban

I can't help myself. These are just too much.

http://www.chicagolive.com/user_submitted/chris_rocks_hillary_clinton/

http://www.chicagolive.com/user_submitted/a_very_groban_christmas/

Alive

I can't take credit for finding this clip. A friend shared it with me on his blog. Pearl Jam was on Storyteller this week and Vedder told the background story to "I'm Alive." He expresses himself in such an eloquently raw manner. In the same way many have found resonance in this song as they've applied it to their own life, I think some would be surprised to find the real story behind the song brings about a similiar resonance.

U.S. Senate Report: Over 400 Prominent Scientists Disputed Man-Made Global Warming Claims in 2007

This article is thanks to Papa Dillon. I've been meaning to post it for awhile. (And frankily and as unpopular this might be, this has been the position I've aligned myself with for the last 3 years or so. This is only one (albeit strong) evidence ...

See U.S. Senate Committee on Environment & Public Works

East Pilsen Artist Colony...

...no joke, this is the official title Metromix has given my neighborhood. I rather like this place. So, for those of you who live many miles from here, I thought I'd post pictures from the weekend to give you an idea of where I live. Come visit!

This Valentine's Day...

...I'm reminded
You're Gonna Miss This Lyrics

When A Kid Is An Angel

I know how kids can be. Particularly little kids. I nannied for 4 years for an infant and a growing 3 year-old who became a 4 year-old who... Understandably and I could objectively argue, these two kiddoes where, probably, the most well-behaved tots I know of. Heck, they rarely were embarrassing in public (what I have always believed to be a good thermometer of how cool a kid is). One of the two kids responded to discipline (pretty good odds, I'd say. That's 50%) They always ate the food I made them and rarely complained about having to finish their "whole" plate. They were athletic. Witty. Photogenic. Good dressers (they picked out their outfit each morning and whether they were two or five they always came up with stylish combos.)

BUT while they were kids to brag about, they, like any child, had a little devil in them. There was always the bedtime hour when they wouldn't go to sleep until ALL five books were read and even then, they got up for water and the bathroom ten times over two hours. And, the baby, she had colic (monitor was put in my room when I lived with them). They didn't poop in manageable little turds but in a messiest of rainbow shades. They splashed water ALL over the bathroom each evening during "bath time". And, I occasionally had to send the neighborhood kids home because my kids were being mean and hitting other children. They were periodically, in need of AA. Otherwise known of when you're five as an "Attitude Adjustment".

While I still babysit every now and then, it's been awhile since I've been around two + kids for a consistent, extended period of time. So, I suppose that means that when I am now around kids, I mentally tend toward turning them into angelic beings. Their smiles...their innocence...their simple lives...These things perhaps turns the age of five, in my imagination, into a grand utopia and their every behavior (good or bad) is simply "cute".

While I'll acknowledge my tendency, for today the five year-old will retain his/her angel-ness in my mind. You see...

It was a tough day at work (enough said), when this 5 year-old child, off from school because of some stomach ailment, came into the Sunshine office with his mother, who needed to make some photocopies. He was shy. And wore blue, plastic sunglasses. (Hey, the glare of the florescent lights makes sunglasses handy.) I asked him his name and his age. And with one hand over his mouth and a slight, shy tilt of his body away from me, he answered.

His Mom and I talked for a few moments about how she'd heard about our center. About their late night run to the E.R. because of his stomach aches and how she took him out of school and took off work herself because their stay lingered on until the wee-hours of this morning. She made her copies. In between her copies and my encouragement to return back to Sunshine for our adult technology classes and open access to computer with Internet, the little kid interrupted.

He looked at me and said, "You know, you're really pretty."

Kids can be charmers, I know. Especially little boys. But, in that moment, with me (internally) bumming about my day and counting the minutes until I could go home, those were the warmest, most encouraging words I could be told. It was his innocence, the simplicity of childhood, that made those words all the better. They were raw. No hidden agenda. No date to gain. No need to woo. No favor to be had. No status to gain. No popularity contest to win. None of the manipulative reasons we assume almost inheretly as part of adulthood. I didn't have to question his sincerity. None of it.

So, I don't know if it's faltery if it comes from a kindergartener but, I do recall Jesus allowing the little children (which I like to think of as kindergarteners) sit on his lap after a long day of teaching - a day, I can only imagine was bummy. And, I can only imagine that the simplicity of their lives, the potential they held, the innocence in their eyes is something that soothed a man undoubtedly deeply affected by the pain of this world. And while we know He had gentle words for them (and a lesson in faith for the adults around Him to learn in it), I have to think they had a few profound words of encouragement for the man too.

Evangelicals (Even) a Liberal Can Love

by Nicholas D. Kristof for the New York Times (2.3.08)

At a New York or Los Angeles cocktail party, few would dare make a pejorative comment about Barack Obama’s race or Hillary Clinton’s sex. Yet it would be easy to get away with deriding Mike Huckabee’s religious faith....Scorning people for their faith is intrinsically repugnant, and in this case it also betrays a profound misunderstanding of how far evangelicals have moved over the last decade. Today, conservative Christian churches do superb work on poverty, AIDS, sex trafficking, climate change, prison abuses, malaria and genocide in Darfur.

...Helene Gayle, the head of CARE, said evangelicals “have made some incredible contributions” in the struggle against global poverty. “We don’t give them credit for the changes they’ve made,” she added. Fred Krupp, the president of Environmental Defense, said, “Many evangelical leaders have been key to taking the climate issue across the cultural divide.”

Read the whole column here.

For those of you who have read the 2006 bestselling book, "Who Really Cares?", I think this is a solid recap of the book's premise and apt translation to the current electoral process.

2008 Chicago Auto Show

What Would Jesus Do?

...not post this ad on Craigslist. Once I got past the anger, I found humor in this.

Those Random Interactions

Inherent to living in the city is the almost compulsory interactions with strangers - interactions you likely wouldn't have with such frequency if you living in such a great concentation of people. This very fact is perhaps one the greatest things about living in the city.

Sometimes the interactions are awkward. Sometimes they are encouraging. Sometimes they are baffling. Sometimes they are disturbing. Sometimes they are hilarious. And, sometimes they are simply frustrating. I was realizing today that, in any given day, I have at least one interaction with a stranger and more often than not my interaction falls into one of the categories. I think that maybe I've become so accustomed to these extra-ordinary events that I don't even make note of them later in conversation however baffling or frustrating or hilarious they may be.

For instance, Wednesday. In a grimmy, slushy, straight-out-of-an-action-thriller creepy parking garage next to Columbia University down on Wabash, I encountered a rather large, stumpy Polish man who, after locking my keys in my car, proceeded to ream me out for his own mistake, blaming it on me. with his broken English, I could not tell you exactly why he believe it was my fault but, it was simply, in his mind, my fault. I should have told him this was going to happen. 30 minutes later. still can't get into my car. he walks back in to the front office and proceeds to argue with me about my payment for parking. he argued this time that, because I wasn't a student at Columbia I should not have received validated parking and therefore owed him another 20-some dollars. I proceeded to respond (in a contrastingly calm demeanor) that he was ridiculous. it was not his decision who should receive validated parking but, rather, it was Columbia University facility security that had cleared me. (Nevermind the fact that he locked my keys in the car and, if I had it my way, I shouldn't have to pay anything for my inconvenience.)

But, then, backup one week. Last Friday. It's early morning and I've not prepared enough time in the morning to dig myself out of the 5-foot snow drift in front of my car nor the 18-inches which accumulated overnight behind my car. In fact, I don't even own a shovel. (I did last year and I don't know where it is now. Because I believe I've only misplaced it, I won't go out and get another one. Poor reasoning. I know.) AND, I had planned a road trip for later in the day on Friday and had a ridiculous number of bags to schelp out to the car.

I figure it was best to tackle this project like any other - one step at a time. I brushed off my car. Trudged through the snow to the auto mechanic's shop and borrowed his shovel and just when I was about to embark on the biggest step of all for a weakling such as myself, a maroon Jeep (Grand Cherokee!) pulls up. A Hispanic neighbor (I'm presuming) of mine jumps out and, without any mastery of the English language, charades to me that he is willing to shovel me out. There was one shovel, though, and two of us. A dynamic which immediately threw me into a personal dilemma - the feministic bursts out of me every now and again at, I will admit, very inconvenient times. I had to watch as this gentleman who, thank God still values chilvary (and hence, retains the "gentle" in front of his name in my book) literally bails me out. I had nothing to repay him with! A true gift. I could only thank him and proceed on to work.

Backup another couple days. Tuesday of last week. I was driving home at 11 p.m. down Lake Shore Drive in the cold and the snow dump. Despite the cold and the weather, I figured this would be as good a time as any to make my grocery run. No one would be in Dominicks, right? And, I had the energy. Why not? Sure enough, it was just as I thought. Only the folks stocking the shelves and I took up space in the store.

While I retain that this was a good idea, I will be honest...it was a bit eery. The quiet. The florescent lights. No beeping of any kind or overhead music. And, I had this feeling I'd run into someone I knew who, would incidently have had the same random idea as I. I was jumpy, needless to say. It was at that moment, when I was walking down Aisle 2 - the soup aisle - that I receive a tap on the shoulder. I jumped, naturally. And spun around. (Quickly doing a count of the number of people I knew who could POSSIBLY be shopping at this store at this time in this ungodly weather.) I turn around and it's a Dominicks' employee hoping only to...let's say, strike a fancy with me. But, the scared look on my face was not the pretty one he'd seen walking fown Aisle 1 a couple minutes earlier. So, he promptly ran (no joke!) away with a quick wink. And I...was completely weirded out.

Like I said, it's the daily interaction with strangers in the city which make for great stories. Keeps life interesting! and keeps me beholden to city life.

Dreadful to be Alone with the New Testament

Edith Stein in Bread and Wine: Readings for Lent and Easter (Orbis, 2005)

"The matter is quite simple. The Bible is very easy to understand. But we Christians are a bunch of scheming swindlers. We pretend to be unable to understand it because we know very well that the minute we understand we are obliged to act accordingly. Take any words in the New Testament and forget everything except pledging yourself to act accordingly. My God, you will say, if I do that my whole life will be ruined. Herein lies the real place of Christian scholarship. Christian scholarship is the Church’s prodigious invention to defend itself against the Bible, to ensure that we can continue to be good Christians without the Bible coming too close. Dreadful it is to fall into the hands of the living God. Yes, it is even dreadful to be alone with the New Testament."

- Soren Kierkegaard, “Kill the Commentators” in Provocations (Orbis, 2003)

Made it on a Winter Weekend Get-Away

Living in the Midwest it's always a challenge to add pizzaz to the dreary months of November through May. If it's not rain, it's snow, not snow, it's wind, not wind, it's clouds and fog. Fortunately, Chicago offers lots to do...indoors. But, sometimes, you just have to get away.

That, my friends, is exactly what I did, albeit not to a dry, sunny place but, to another cloudy place - Roberts, WI - that was made sunny by time well-spent with friends.

Little broomball for folks...


...little hot air balloon festival in town.


And, a winter weekend getaway, is not complete without this....

that's right. a nap.

(I can't take credit for any of these pictures. While I brought my camera, I soon decided to leave the task to others who had big cameras, with lots of lens, and wore the thing like it was a 5th apendage.)

AND....on a completely unrelated note. Care of my friend, Anna. This Really? What the heck is this gal thinking. I would think this was all tongue-and-check but, the t-shirts? there is a line to tongue-and-cheek and I think she's crossed it. What do you think?

Muhammed Yunus - Banker to the Poor

In conjunction with my previous post...

I'm currently reading the book "Banker to the Poor" by Muhammed Yunus, founder of the the Grameen Bank in India and a man committed to the proliferation of micro finance organizations restoring so many in extreme poverty around the world. Mr. Yunus was formerly an acclaimed economic professor in Bangladesh before the outstanding famine of 1974 hit Bangladesh. Experiencing people of mere skin and bones arriving in the great city, strew on sidewalks and train station platforms, incapable in their hunger to find energy even to beg, shocked Yunus out of the classroom and into the countryside were the famine was so widespread. In the countryside, Mr. Yunus became (first) an anthropologist, studying in a new way his people in a time of crisis. His interviews and relationships led him to begin the Grameen Bank, the first of its kind, creating small loans for ingenious peoples who simply lacked the capital for their skill to create gain.

Last year Yunus was awarded for his own ingenuity by obtaining the Nobel Peace Prize. This man understood the power of microfinance long before it gained its modern-day popularity.

I first learned about Muhammed Yunus through the Chicago Council on Global Affairs of which I am apart. He is coming this month to speak on his experience and knowledge of microfinance, bringing it into the context of urban Chicago in a way many others have failed to articulate.

Crain's Business is onto the trend and have put together a presentation, which includes a clip on Mr. Yunus, on the intersection of globalization and microfinance (one concept more complex than another).

You can find this presentation on the Crain's Business website.

Bringing Hope to the Far Stretches of Uganda

This past weekend I attend an event at The Barn in Barrington. The event was sponsored by the npo Bright Hope International which, is also located in Barrington. Bright Hope's mission is to bring hope to those who live on only a dollar each day - those who live in the extremest of poverty. More specifically they provide for the physical, economic and spiritual needs of people living at the lowest economic level through personal, empowering, holistic, local church partnerships.

One of Bright Hope's partnerships is with Eagle's Nest - a Christian education & relief endeavor which has sites in several regions of Uganda. Bright Hope brought in Pastor Butch, director of Eagle's Nest, and his wife to speak this weekend on their ongoing work. The video above is Part I of a two Part video series on the heartbreaking direction of many people in Uganda due to the destruction caused by the Lord's Resistance Army (militia) in the North as well as natural disasters, like floods, which have destroyed many people's crops.

I first learned about Bright Hope through my parents. My mom volunteers time at the organization and is continually excited to bring to my attention partnerships
of all kinds which Bright Hope is apart of. Fair trade is core to many of their global partnerships and, while they help indigenous euntrepreneurs distribute their goods more widely they also import some of the goods at their store, also located in Barrington. I encourage you to take a look at this video and also take a Saturday trip out to the Bright Hope store, stocking up on birthday or holiday gifts.

You've all undoubtedly heard it by now (or felt it by now)...a cold, Artic blast has overcome Chicagoland and the Middle West. I live in an old (I believe I was told) 1860's duplex which likely has many chilly stories to tell. Its drafty windows, cracked panes, and dirt tell me this.

While most of the time, I take pride in the quaint, historical touch these windows offer our pad, the past two days have not been one of those times. I've plastic-ed the windows. Piled what blankets I have on my bed. Bundled up in long-sleeved shirtS and hoodie. Still...chilled to the bone.

Yesterday afternoon, though, all bundled on the couch and catching up on my latest novel read, sunlight twinkling through our frozen windows, I was brought back in memory to Calvin College. I rememeber a handful of times in college when temperatures dropped this low. I mostly remember housemates and I hundling together in the the living room - the warmest room in our house - trying, albeit not our hardest efforts, to get Monday's work complete.

There was one other place, though, you could find me on a dry, icy, yet sunny day at Calvin - the foyer of the Science Building - glass windows surrounding me, sunglasses on, and textbook in my lap. On cold days, windows are generally the one thing people stay away from but, at the time this newly-constructed building with sealed seams was an incubator - the sunlight warming the place like the beaches of Florida, the cold banned.

So, needless to say, I wish I could be back there today, either in the living room with friends or the incubator-like foyer of Calvin's lastest build.

Alas, a story!

i was riding the CTA red line this afternoon and on my way home sat next to this large man who seemed rather anxious, for several stops, to get off the train. once we'd passed a couple stops and he didn't get off, i started becoming anxious along with him.

all of the sudden (with these four words you know this is going to be a great story), in between stops, he gets up, unlatches the emergency exit bar on the rear door (the bells didn't go off which was half my disconcert)and proceeds to straddle the two cars, each foot supported only by a three each lip on each car. he stared down at the cables and chains that jiggled and straped below. i look around the car. i wondered: does anyone think this is as absurd as i do? i was certain I was going to witness this man's suicidal death. no one else saw him. truly. only i. i wondered if i was to reach out and save him. shoudl i give him some interventive therapy? question his choice? was this one of the pavlovian moments where they are many people surrounding a person in distress and everyone, hoping the next person would act, doesn't reach out in care?

just when i thought i couldn't take it any longer, he comes back into my car, sits down, and proceeds to call his buddy on his shiny verizon cellphone. everyone else still not giving a s**t. And I...completely perplexed!

Still Thinking...

I've been away for some time now, all the while thinking about what my next entry should be about. my friends who are compelling, humorous writers are observer types. i, on the other hand, don't know if i'm too focused to make the 10-degree head tilt required to soak in the world around me OR, if I am so unfocused that I blindly go through life.

I'd like to stay off the spiritual for at least one entry. I'm not planning on analyzing why I'm so opposed.

Although a single, city girl I am, indeed, the last thing I'm willing to talk about right now is dating. It nauseates me. Distracts from my mystery. (Ha!) And for all the cloud-nine moments dating in Chicago leads to, the whole process is generally ... painful. What does not lead to success leads to experience...that's what someone recently told me. Still trying to figure out how that softens the pain.

I would talk about my intense fondness for my new neighborhood - the South Loop/Pilsen neighborhood - but I have yet to be able to describe in words how exactly this neighborhood is the only fulfilled aspect of my 5-year-old dreaming about urban adulthood

I'd discuss work. But, work is inherently a rollercoaster ride I only subject family and close friends to. How kind of me, right?

I'd discuss some great mishap but, I'm fortunate enough to have stayed mishap-free for 30 days and would rather relish it as opposed to reach back and remember any of it.

I'd discuss New Year's resolutions but mine remain the same each year...which is revealing enough.

I'd discuss my recent vacation to see a dear friend in Toronto. But, I don't welcome the scoff I'd get for taking a trip in early January to Toronto over somewhere like Clearwater, Florida. Nor, do I want to describe my friendship...some things are too precious to put into words.

I could discuss my latest movie rentals. But, they were each sad and the analytical reflection that ensued afterward is, once again, too personal and too painful for a blog.

So, I'm speechless (am I ever, really?)...and still without a blog entry.