Gypsy Woman

Memorial day weekend.... is a great 3 day weekend for grilling, attending parades and wearing patriotic colors. Also, a good time for MOVING. :)

There wasn't too much stuff left in the florist shop apartment, just a few suitcases and random other things (that are now in my office. hahaha). There was a whole lotta cleaning to do though. :) So thankful for Alli and her help keeping my sanity that weekend. We basically ate delicious food every time it was available. Pockets, Tastee Freeze, Jamba, A cute little Italian bakery I don't recall the name of.... so much goodness and dessert! We also got our nails done and went shopping at Old Navy. Pretty much we are the champions of coping with change...there's no anxiety that can stand up to the comfort of a friend with a fro-co. :) BOOM BABY!

2 weeks ago my family came from Michigan and helped me move the majority of my things to the garage of my new apartment. I have been living out of a suitcase since then- on the floor of the little florist shop apartment and now in the guest room of a friend.

The friend's place where I am staying is actually the same place I stayed 2 years ago after graduation. It seems fitting that this would be a stop along the way to my new place. Places are very significant to me and I am thankful for the reminder of God's faithfulness in this particular place.



Moving is such an exhausting undertaking and stressful too. The moving and cleaning and many details to coordinate. It seems that I have been in the moving process for over a month now- from when I first started packing; and the more time passes, the more I find myself tired of it. The thought of moving from the garage to the house (though only 30 feet) and then unpacking seems a little overwhelming. Living out of suitcases certainly reminds you of exactly what are the "essentials." Maybe I will just join a Bedouin community instead... hmmm.



I wanted to post a song here at the end- that matched the title. Alas, I fear I was singing the wrong lyrics.... Lenny Kravitz is still working on this one I guess.

Where have all the Cowboys gone?

Pastors Conference at Moody Bible Institute........... (breathe deeply) It has come to be one of my favorite things about working here over the summer. All the khaki's and cheesy jokes the world can contain, are RIGHT HERE this week.

I ate lunch in the Commons everyday this week hoping to spot my future husband but the way registration is set up this year; they just don't make it that easy. Registering by last name... tsk! That is so 2009. I propose that next year's registration be something more like this: "Single pastor's under 40 who think Arrested Development is funny" here and "Everyone Else" here. Maybe they could also have a speed dating event... hahahaa. OK, now my imagination has officially gone wild. Reigning in the horses. :)

So in all this "Pastor Watching" I have noticed a few specific types of Pastors.
#1. Hipster for Jesus
Cargo pants, tousled hair, track jacket and square rim glasses. This pastor tanned and in his 50's is easy to spot with an ambitious youth pastor right on his heels and a book about the emerging church under his arm.

#2. Biker for Jesus
These are the guys in jean and leather; usually a little hairier than the others and real heavy duty work shoes. The ones who come with a cooler of food, 3 cubes of soda and 2 cases of Dinty Moore soup. mmmmmmm... Beefy!

#3. ALUMNI for Jesus
I laugh at these guys, but I know that someday all too soon it will be me. So I laugh still, but with humility! :) They ask everyone if they attended MBI trying to make connections and be able to legitimize their time here by knowing someone that another pastor knows who went here. They are the ones who give private tours of campus of all their favorite spots and begin far too many sentences with "When I was here...". They start laughing for apparently no reason while walking through the plaza because they had a memory of their flag poling or some such thing that only "Moodies" would understand. They pretend they are lost while secretly visiting their old room and pause in reverence at the back of Torrey Gray every time they enter.

#4. Farm Fresh for Jesus
These are a great majority of the men here this week. The ones who come from a small town in the Midwest who are so excited to be a part of DL Moody's legacy and will tell their grandchildren about this week for years to come. They are ordinary men who only drink their coffee black and like their breakfast big.

#5. Joggers for Jesus
This type is tricky because sometimes the "Farm Fresh" Pastors try to pose in this role. They get out their swishy athletic pants that they usually wear to a game and go for a run in the city instead. On the way back they breathe more deeply and sweat more heavily and stop for an Egg McMuffin to celebrate their accomplishment.

The real Jogger type though is the social elite of the Pastors group. You know them... the popular kids from High School you love to hate. The ones you now can't hate because they are Pastors... the ones who eat Kashi and sip beverages. The ones who run marathons on Saturdays and preach on Sundays and carry a briefcase every other day. The ones who only use Macs and are looking for a coffee bar in the auditorium. You know the ones.

OK, I know I am making terrible fun of these men, but I really do love them! I love that they serve God so faithfully. I love that they put in so many hours for others. I love that they put their family life on display for everyone's critique and sacrifice for them anyway. I love that they smell so wonderfully of sweat and cologne. I love that they preach the truth to each other. I love that they get to come here and rest awhile. I love that they have fresh material to take home to their churches- Bible truth and jokes! I love that they cherish this place and the speakers and their gift bags so much. I just love them!

I did find one cowboy this week... there is a new street performer on Michigan Avenue these days. His cowboy outfit is complete with chaps and spurs. He lassos his rope and hollers "Giddy up!" It's good to know there is at least one still out there!

HUZZAH!

I thought this was a Hebrew expression and as a result thought that I was so impressive and Bible college savvy(nerdy) for knowing it was Hebrew. The only problem is that it's not actually anything remotely close to Hebrew. The internet assures me it is more than likely PRUSSIAN! So really huzzah is merely a cool enough word to be mistaken for Hebrew.

Whatever the true origin of this word- we have been having a whole lot of them lately; a week of them in fact. Every day this past week Kaitlyn and I spent some time together doing "last" things in the city before she moved away to her summer internship. We went to Berry Chill, had dinner with church friends, ate dessert at Ghirardelli's, went to the Container Store, packed, listened (some more reluctantly than others) to country music, enjoyed dinner at the Kerryman, played massive amounts of banannagrams, got slurpees, sang along to Wicked, hung out with little B, laughed, cried, etc.

Our little apartment is filled with boxes now-though it still looks homey with furniture and decor. Kaitlyn left on Thursday to go home and then on to her internship. The emotion of it all has yet to hit me, though I know the weeping is coming.

Kaitlyn has become such a great friend over the past year and a half of living together. She is a deeply caring person who always puts other people before herself. She freely shares her time and stuff with anyone that needs it. She is patient and a good listener. She is always up for a party and is a pretty great popcorn maker. I'm thankful for our time together above LaSalle Florist and grateful she will be returning to the city in 3 months. We have both grown up so much since September 2008! HUZZAH!

Delilah, if you are reading this... please dedicate a real sappy song to the end of our roommate era.

Celebrations

The list of causes to celebrate has been many as of late. Thanks for caring about these things and celebrating them with me!

North Lawndale will have a new resident in just about a month now. I committed to a 2 bedroom apartment that is being rehabbed by friends of mine. It is a beautiful place with a shared yard, back porch and decent sized shower (everything I was looking for in a place! haha) The only thing that was missing was a roommate... which in faith I trusted the Lord would provide.

Admittedly, I put a sorry amount of effort into finding a roommate. I asked people I knew, but I just kept asking myself, "Seriously? Who am I gonna find that wants to move to North Lawndale?" I am pleased to report that despite my lack of effort in faith, the Lord remains faithful to me. Through a friend of a friend and rap concert, the Lord crossed Jen's path with mine. She was already looking for a place in the neighborhood and was asking the same question. So thankful for her and excited to get to know her more in this next location and phase of life.

Because of the houses' condition at the time my friends bought it, there are some additional hoops they will have to jump through in order for the City of Chicago to grant them a certificate of occupancy. In other words, I am moving back into Houghton for a couple weeks of June. Moving back to the exact same spot I was 2 years ago after graduation- the H2 RS apartment guest room. hahahaha. I love that life is this ironic and would not have it any other way! This time around though, no storage locker. Hallelujah; I can move my stuff!

I cannot seem to keep the same job at Moody for longer than a year- though this year is the closest by far. Recently I was given a promotion within Residence Life. As of July 1, my title will be the Residence Life Housing and Administrative Coordinator. In many ways, my role will remain the same, particularly in regards to the online housing software we continue to set up for future use. In other ways my job will morph into one with more decision making responsibility in regards to our undergrad housing procedures, so that is an exciting challenge.

Numb Hope

Pretty much what I am thinking is encapsulated in that title. I feel fussy and want you to just know what that means, but I guess that's asking too much.

You know that feeling when you wanna listen to Alanis Morisette and Meredith Brooks back to back? That feeling when you wanna eat until you throw up (not because you need to eat, just because you want to feel something)? That feeling of dropping mac and cheese on your "shelf" at lunch, having a 9 year old point it out to you and walking around the mall hoping no one will notice? That feeling of buying a bathing suit only to get it home and wonder if your grandma may have bought the same one (in a smaller size though of course?)That feeling of knowing you have so many things to be thankful for and still feeling pitiful anyway which only makes you feel guilty? That feeling of knowing how many people would love to have your "problems" which makes you feel even more guilty? That feeling of staring at the flowers you bought yourself with pride at being an independent woman who doesn't need a man to buy flowers for her knowing they did not do the trick? That feeling of being the only unmarried lady at church today and totally unrelateable? That feeling of having watched a lousy movie this evening instead of doing something more worthwhile like 9th grade algebra homework? That feeling of realizing how you are exposing yourself on your blog and wanting to delete it, but hating all the thought you have put into it already so you probably won't? Yeah, all of the above are me right now.

I know there is hope. just not feeling so much of it right now. I know that I am loved. just not feeling so much of that right now either. Instead. feeling like a "big fat rat... GLORIA!" (James Garner from The Thrill of it All) So glad that I get to start over in the morning. May it arrive soon!

I'm glad you're a man...

THE PREFACE
Last week a fight broke out at the end of SLAM because a kid who came from the west side flashed a gang sign at a kid from Cabrini who represents a rival gang and it erupted! Everybody’s cousin jumped in to “help.” Thankfully there were staff people outside and broke it up quickly. Anyway, in the middle of the action are 2 staff guys I really respect. As I was leaving, they were still holding kids back by their wrists. I left feeling so thankful that they were there and strong enough to handle all that. And all week through different things have been impressed to pray for men to rise up to be a part of ending this crisis of kids without dads. (anyway… that could be its own post and may be someday soon…)

So I wanted to send a email to the 2 of them in appreciation for being out there and in general all that they do at SLAM. But then because one of them (who shall be called "Manly Man" in this post) is this tall balding, hairy unmarried beast of a man, I couldn’t justify it. I didn’t want to be manipulative and try to do some ridiculous version of ‘Christian encouragement’ in an attempt to pick up a guy. (been there, done that) SO… I very maturely refused to send an email or facebook message (though I will admit I drafted several). Especially after all the thoughts I was having about needing men in this ministry though- it felt stupid to not encourage someone. I went back and forth…

THE DEED
Monday night comes and Manly Man and I pass each other in the hall. I resist for a moment, then turn back and this is what happened…

ME: Hey Manly Man! Actually I wanted to say something to you
HIM: Yeah… what’s up?
ME: I don’t know if you remember me.. I’m Rachel (pointing at my name tag!) and I go to Dave’s church
HIM: Oh yeah yeah yeah.. Rachel right, OK
ME: Well, I was thinking about the fight last week and I didn’t really see it except I was leaving at the end and saw you guys in the middle of it…(TOTALLY OUT OF BREATH because I am nervous and lost a natural rhythm so now it sounds breathy)
ME CONT’D: Maybe you will think this is cheesy (deep GASP for breath!) (Also I am needing to clear my throat but I can only hear my Dad’s voice in my head saying how unladylike that is so I continue breathy and gritty to the end. )
HIM: OK… (cocks head to side and makes interested yet apprehensive face)
ME: I was thinking a lot about what you did, being there on the frontlines and all and getting in the middle of it and I am just really glad that you are a man.
(Panicking because I realize this sounds dumb and obvious)
ME CONT’D: And by that I mean, a man of God...(Overwhelmed by my inability to recover, I turn red and start saying a lot more things I don’t remember)
HIM: Oh, well that’s not cheesy at all. I was kinda worried about what you were gonna say, but no, that’s encouraging! I humbly receive that. Thanks!
ME: oh yeah… anytime.(wanting to have an actual conversation, but not knowing where to go from that… I look at my feet and he walks away)

THE CONCLUSION OF THE MATTER
It is funny. It really really is, please feel free to laugh your head and your tail off. I have been! But it also made me feel so inept and ridiculous. He probably has a girlfriend, so in this instance it's probably not that big of a deal. But how embarrassing to not be able to form decent sentences. ah! The LORD knows my marriage will be a testimony to the world that miracles do happen! Also, I could pick apart my motives all day long, but somewhere in the midst of all that hormone was a genuine desire to appreciate his “man-ness.”(Which is what I was planning to say and so thankful the Lord did not allow it past my lips. :) CAN YOU IMAGINE?“ Hey Buddy, I’m real thankful for your man-ness!” haaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa! Maybe I could have quoted John Eldredge while I was at it: Thanks for giving of your strength… Do you find me captivating? haha. Oh dear!)

FAIL! EPIC FAIL!

What's NOT to love?

AIR GUITAR - the competitors have names like Sweatmaster Animal, Rocktopus, Nordic Thunder and Romeo DanceCheetah. What's not to love?

AIR GUITAR- the style is eccentric. Spandex is the first layer and then pile on top any mixture of patterns. Leopard print, pink fishnets, jean jackets, American flags, t-shirts with kitties, loin cloths; even a scalloped collar that lights up... whatever excites you. My fave from last night: jeans, bare chest (even without hair. haha.), suspenders! and a blazer. Be sure not to forget the accessories which included a sequined purple headband and belt. YES! AND SO I ASK YOU... What's not to love?

AIR GUITAR-it is pretty athletic. Lots of jumping while doing the splits and sliding on your knees. This is not for wimps my friends! In round 2 last night, Rocktopus climbed the lighting scaffolding and hung backwards while playing his air guitar. Flexibility... also important... check! And it's not just the performers either- in the audience you really have to be agile. At any moment there could be a man jumping off stage expecting to surf through the crowd or a drunken audience member who elbows you in the head.What's not to love?

AIR GUITAR - The host of this shin-dig was Bjorn Turoque (vocalized: Born to Rock). He intrigued me and if I could have made friends with someone; I would have picked him. He's a young soul, but knows his place in it all since he's older. What's not to love?

The opening act was a KISS wannabe girl band- If you can imagine that, congratulations. If not, I have pictures. The stage was cleared and then to kick off the event they played the theme song to Perfect Strangers! Everyone was singing it together and I was going crazy with excitement. From that point, to the end when a wet man in a loin cloth named Nordic Thunder won the championship I laughed my head off. What great time! I've heard rumors about this guy next year who is supposed to be really good. He goes by "Don of Rock." (wink!)

AIR GUITAR - It is not exactly a family friendly environment. I'm not endorsing all (or even most) of the life choices these people are making. It's the same mentality as any rock and roll musician, just without the hookup to the amp. Sex, Beer, Rock and Roll... kinda sad when you realize that's all some on this circuit are living for. Maybe I could be a missionary to the air guitar champions... or their chaplain! I say this in jest, but it really caused me to think alot (because my name is Rachel Monfette and nothing can be simply entertaining)!

Is it wrong to be so entertained and amused by the absurd? Secretly, I envy how un-apologetically they put themselves out there, how invincible they seem. It's such a fun concept, such a hysterical recreation, but unfortunately everything that gets included with it is real trashy. The glamor and the fame of it is seductive; no doubt about that. "Be your own hero" it whispers and then gives you an outrageous name and outfit to hide behind.

So maybe in a different life (with different parents) I would have been a Bjorn Turoque. Maybe I would have found myself competing on the world champion stage in FINLAND. Probably you can't see it and that doesn't offend me. I know that "hardcore" is not the first word that springs to mind when you think of me. I don't even own any version of punk clothes! In my heart though, I admit that I am so attracted to living a dual life like that; one of which is completely without rules or consequences because it's NOT REAL! For this reason, I could not be more grateful to a God Who sets some boundaries and by His grace helps me not to cross them... even if it does mean never reaching my full potential as an air guitarist! :) Also so grateful for the sense of humor He gave me to enjoy stuff like this totally sober. :) What's not to love?