Vocab Words

Remember the show, Recess? It’s one of the only cartoon shows I will admit to enjoying. (I’m also pretty fond of Arthur the Aardvark) TJ Detwhiler makes up the word “Whomps” partially because he’s cool and partially because he can’t get in trouble for the meaning of a made up word. Anyway, it totally made me laugh and made me think of it when I heard these new vocab words recently.

TTU: Too Turned Up

One Wednesday, the girls and I are in the Heifer and the answer to every question was “TTU”. How was school? TTU How was your weekend? TTU How about Taco Bell for dinner? TTU You get the idea!:)

So Happenly... : The new form of “It so happened”  

On the way home from Taco Bell, the girls were telling stories and one of them kept starting with “So happenly”. It has a nice ring to it right? I think will start using it.  

Clutch: Means to come through under pressure in an important moment

My AZ friends say this all the time.I think basketball people might say this too. Urbandictionary.com says that the term is “derived from the clutch mechanism in a manual car, where perfect timing can mean the difference between a launch and a stall”.

B-boy: Short for “break-boy” refers to guys who break dance

A few weeks ago I went to a winter block party at The Metro with my neighbors. Their friend Joseph “Sentrock” was in town from AZ and got to jump into the b-boy competition. It was pretty great to see so much culture and art and strength in these guys (and girls)! Not my scene at all, but I loved it and secretly felt like I was in Step Up 3. :)

Cipher:  It’s b-boys freestyling- no formal competition 

Just learned the correct spelling of this one now… Was totally searching for “sypher”…Oh well!

That’s all I got for now, but I’m sure there will be more to come. You could try out one of these words this week or make up your own. :) Please comment any original words… I would love to start using them!

Grieving Outsider/Insider

When I got home from work on Wednesday, there were cops everywhere and looking through the windows of parked cars with their flashlights and a tow truck picking up a van. I didn't know what happened, but I knew it was something bad. I later found out that a man had been shot and killed just across the corner of 19th and Troy.

I felt a particular grief that I live so close to the place this violence happened. A violence that not only took this man's life but also left families and friends who knew him (grew up with him) grieving. Those people are my neighbors that I say hi to in passing, wait for the el with, care about and pray for, but I don't really know them...I didn't know Johnny Henderson.

I wanted to express my solidarity with my neighbors- that this was our community's grief. At the same time though, I felt like I didn't have a right to grieve for someone I didn't know, whose life didn't intersect with mine, whose experiences didn't come from the same world. I didn't want to disrespect their deep grief by pretending I was going through the same thing- because I'm not. I also didn't want to disrespect my commitment to this place by pretending it did not affect me- because it does.

So I bought a cheesecake and walked down the block to the memorial that had been set up. There were red heart balloons and a poster board of pictures around the tree; candles and empty liquor bottles at the base of it. I offered my condolences and prayers for the family and my cheesecake. I offered to pray with a couple people, but no one took me up on it. I talked with a couple guys about their friendship with Johnny and the things that cause this kind of thing in our neighborhood. And then I left.

What does it really look like to be a caring neighbor? To be a part of a community different from the one you grew up in? How can I have any kind of relationship or make any kind of difference in the lives of these men who are aching to prove themselves? How can I demonstrate light and hope and truth? How do I remain open when all I want to do is hide from this ugly reality?

Silly as that cheesecake was, I didn't know how else to express my sadness and love for my neighbors. I didn't know how else to offer my presence and with it the hope of Jesus. I wish I would have wrote a card or Bible verse or something too, but I didn't really think of that until after the fact. I feel so small and insignificant in the midst of so many layers of pain and brokenness, but I serve a God who is more than able to do more than I can ask or think, who is enough to fill this deep sadness and give new life and hope to those who call on His name.
 
His name is above every name
His authority is limitless
His holiness is supreme
His love is immeasurable
His wisdom is infinite
His strength is unmatched
His truth is powerful
His healing is complete
His victory over sin and death is sure
 
I invite His presence here...to Chicago, to Lawndale, to 19 & Troy....
And look forward to the day when our faith shall be made sight!

LOYOLA- Fall 2012

I will be attending Loyola University in Chicago this Fall!

The more involved I become in the world of Higher Education, the more I want to know about it and how to make it better. With some encouragement from my boss especially, I applied to Loyola and was accepted. I will still be working at Moody full time and taking classes part time in the M.Ed Higher Education Program.

My hope is that this degree and future opportunities can help to bridge the gap between the two worlds I am most passionate about, under-resourced communities and college. In the future, I would love to be working in minority student affairs/multi-cultural office or in enrollment management programming for first generation college students. Maybe some other things too, but we will see how long my scholarly ambition lasts. :)

The direction I am headed now feels opposite in some ways to what I came here for. I came to Chicago for a Bible education with plans to do mission work overseas. I could have never expected how much I love the city and the westside in particular. I could never have known what deep relationships I would develop with the youth here. I could never have imagined loving my job so much or having some of these key opportunities. I could never have realized how my ideas about cross-cultural ministry and incarnational living would be made realities here in Chicago.This internal conflict over what I thought my future would be and what it has turned out to be has caused me to deeply appreciate that we are called to Christ, not to a place. It would be too easy to have guilt over what I am not doing instead of delighting in the ministry He has gifted to me. 

One of my favorite missionary stories is of Mary Slessor (Run, Ma, Run). I've been thinking what an inspiration she is young and doing Bible studies in a rough part of town. I love the scene when the tough boys swing a rock in front of her face and she does not flinch. If I remember right they end of attending the study and making sure no one gives Mary any more trouble. I may not be that heroic, but I do have great hope for this place. The Spirit of God is certainly at work and I look forward to seeing how all this will turn out... Maybe a few years from now I will be writing another entry where my life takes another twist. :)

The Deli

Last night Kira and I went shopping. She's 14 and if I had left the shopping up to her we would have walked out of there with olives, cinnamon toast crunch cereal and cookies 'n' cream milk.

At the deli, I was so impressed with the man helping me because he got my Stella Provolone and Sara Lee Roast Beef to exactly .50 lb. Probably you're nodding your head thinking "that's cool" even though you wouldn't have blogged about it. My reaction was much more animated than that... I held the bags of deli meat and cheese up for Kira to see and announced with a big smile that they were exact. When she didn't show very much excitement, I tried to explain to her how difficult that was to do- to take slices of meat and add them perfectly up to .50 lb. She tried to act excited for my sake (and so we could move on to the cereal aisle), but I knew deep down that she was not. There are some things that are just thrilling to me and delis are one of them... If the large glass counter had not been between us, I would have slapped him on the back with as much enthusiasm as if he just roped a steer.

SIDE NOTE: It just popped in my head what a funny sitcom episode it would be if there was an aspiring deli man who was too short to see over the counter. oh the pain...! :) Although, I guess he could just get a step stool... hm. not as entertaining.

When Kira and I got up to the checkout counter, I noticed that the bag of cheese was missing. It was busy and the cashier had no interest in my story of lost cheese. So we paid and then retraced our steps through the store until we found it. :) That has never happened to me before... losing items from your cart while shopping!

Just now, I ate a delicious roast beef and provolone sandwich on a pretzel roll. Sadly, that means they are no longer exactly .50 lb.

Underground Apology

To my friends & hidden fan club (only one of whom I am aware):
My deepest apologies for this drought of blog-less-ness. You can expect some stories to roll out shortly. :)

You can look forward to hearing some new vocab words I've learned, my latest adventures in breakdancing and of course a few akward moments. Love to you all!

Shhhhhhhhh!

The other morning on my way to work I waited for the brown line for 15-20 minutes…When it finally arrived I boarded the train just as grumpy and annoyed as the hundreds of people waiting on the platform (I may be exaggerating about the brevity of the crowd).

The four ladies from my neighborhood behind me didn't seem to mind the delay because they had things to talk about. They talked about their business loud enough so that the whole train car could hear and not have any doubt about what these women thought about it all.

Landlord- useless
Knee pain- unbearable
Children- lazy as ever

They sat in a cluster on the outside seats, turned into a huddle in the aisle. There were some choice words peppering their commentary as well.

Sitting on the inside of one of the seats was a little thing, all of 30 and perfectly manicured. Cutting through the ladies chatter, she whipped her head around and brought her extended index finger to her pursed lips. “Shhhhhhhhhhhhhh!” For a moment, the whole car was stunned and waited to see what would happen next.

Loud Ladies: “Excuuuuuuse me! I am not your child!”
Brazen Blondie: “You’re so loud! and you’re swearing.”
Loud Ladies: “You aint never heard swearing before? I’m not at your church!” (lots of mocking and laughing between group)
Brazen Blondie:(Looks around desperately for someone to support her assertion, but everyone is wearing their ‘city face’ pretending nothing is happening)  “Well, you’re not going to get very far in life swearing and being so loud!”
Loud Ladies: “Excuuuuse me! If you don’t want to hear what I’ve gotta say you can just close your ears!”
Brazen Blondie: (shakes head defiantly, points both index fingers and inserted them to her ears)

Woah! It was like a front row seat at a theatre. I did pretty well at keeping a straight face on the train, but as soon as I exited I laughed my head off the entire 2 blocks to work. It’s a comic tragedy of sorts though really. These were real women who treated each other this way in real life on their average commute (this part I did not exaggerate at all). 

Sure, I get annoyed when people are talking loudly on the train. Sure, I hate it when people play their music at an inconsiderately high volume. Sure, it’d be great if everybody kept their language PG. Sure, I’d rather not hear about people’s portfolios or sex life or health problems. But Blondie, it’s public mass transit! You can’t isolate yourself from everybody else or their business on it! 

It makes me sick to think that this woman decided whether these ladies would be successful in life based on nothing more than conduct on the el one morning. These women were more than 20 years her senior and probably could have given her a much more severe life lesson in that moment. That assumption about their ability to be successful in life influenced the way she treated these ladies- as children who could learn from her sterling example, rather than as women who have weathered a hell of a lot more life than her.

I know this scene has caused me to pause since and think about my own assumptions. Daily, I so desperately need the Lord to transform my mind about what it means to be valuable, successful, beautiful even.  In this country, in this city and in my own heart our heart attitudes that can produce such ugliness need to be examined. Our words have the power to bring life or death…let’s choose them wisely.

Glimpse

Here's a little glimpse into what one friend has coined, my "rich inner world":

1. SPLAT! I killed a gnat buzzing around my face with my bare hands.
2. I narrated the experience (or I was talking trash to the dead gnat): "And that's why they call me fast hands Monfette!"
3. Laughed outloud at my big achievement and wondered who really calls me "Fast Hands Monfette"