Mid-May Thankful List

I realize I don't write enough thankful lists, so here goes:

-Volunteering at the bike shop and learning more about bikes from Jerry, a retiree who once owned his own bike shop and is a bike mechanic who spends his weekends volunteering at Working Bikes and graciously allows noobs like me to pester him with bike and life-related questions.

-Thankful for my small group and for Leah bringing over bags of Ethiopian food from Demera.

-For my budding friendship with Alison, our newest housemate who moved in a few weeks ago and all of the new memories that have followed hence: runs to Whole Foods to do price checks, steamed artichokes / margaritas, going to IKEA and eating the $1 breakfast (which, by the way, I wouldn't recommend because it's pretty subpar but maybe it is worth it considering it's only 1 buck). Alison is preparing to leave for Croatia in October to be a full-time missionary with Josiah Venture. Check out her story and what God is doing in her life here: https://www.josiahventure.com/people-and-places/croatia/22894

-Baking 'Life-Changing Bread' - basically a bread composed of various nuts and seeds. Sadly, my expectations were maybe a little too high and alas, the bread that came out of the oven wasn't very life-changing. I should have expected that no bread lacking in yeast or even flour could possibly be life-changing. But I had hopes. And now I'm on the #carbhunt and will be making carb-filled loaves of bread that will hopefully make my kitchen smell like a bakery.

-Term 3 of nursing school, which hasn't been too stressful and which I've found to be extremely interesting so far. My inpatient psych clinical starts up at Saint Anthony's Hospital and then in July I'll be on the RUSH inpatient unit.

-Last week, I got to attend the Faith and Race conference with some girls from my church and I was B L O W N away. Leah, Katherine, Blair, and I got together the next day after church to process everything we learned and I am continually challenged to be a learner, seeker (i.e. seek out different relationships and stories that will challenge my perceptions about race), peacemaker...

-Continuing to process my past relationship with Marcos - a relationship that ultimately changed me to be a more others-centered person and grew my heart to better serve others. It's been more than four months since I ended my relationship with Marcos, and it's true, there are still many days when I feel the weight of unanswered questions. Ultimately, I trust that God was the one that led me into that relationship and that his purposes were fulfilled. Still, while it's trite of me to say that breakups are no fun it's true that the first one really does catch you off guard. Who knew the sensation of your heart breaking could actually feel like just that? And to think that this is mostly a universal experience - holy cow. And yet, I trust that when God was asking me to let go, he had my best interests in mind, as well as Marcos'.

Divinity Beheld

I found myself in Sam's room, myself stretched out on her bed and she on the floor with Zeke stretched out luxuriously beside her. It was dusk, and the only light was that which emanated from the various candles lit in her room. We turned on worship music, and humbly sang along and then proceeded to pray expectantly. I glimpsed a sliver of heaven that evening, and the realization of what could be numinous caused us to tremble, and be still.

--------------------------

Starting a few months ago, a new tradition was birthed in our house and a few of us girls started doing morning cuddle/prayer sessions. Basically, this consists of Emily drowsily going upstairs and then me following. We usually end up in Liz's bed, all three of us tangled up in a web of limbs and morning breath. When the weather decides to be agreeable, a morning breeze will gently find it's way through the open window and carry our prayers perhaps sinking into cracks in the pavement or maybe upwards to realms unseen. 

---------------------------

For me, going to prayer night at Chicago Tabernacle is something I like to do by myself. It's quite routine for me to drive on Lake Street, with the windows down and usually I'm listening to worship music, or when the mood strikes, Arcade Fire. Sometimes, the timing is just right and the train will rumble laboriously above me and I'll feel a certain tingle of power in my veins as I increase my speed.

---------------------------

I have been inhaling, devouring, call it what you will, memoirs, nonfiction, fiction, well-written articles and am currently reading John Updike's My Father's Tears. There is one short story, Morocco, and it's one of those pieces that leave you feeling transported. Can memories be experienced second-handedly?