Snoopy

One of my professors put this quote up on powerpoint yesterday. It certainly resonated with me. In fact, yesterday I made a concerted effort to have some hellos. I think that's a start.

“Why can’t we get all the people together in then world that we really like and then just stay together? I guess that wouldn’t work. Someone would leave. Someone always leaves. Then we would have to say good-bye. I hate goodbyes. I know what I need. I need more hellos.” –Snoopy

Loneliness

Loneliness. The wedding is less than two weeks away and I am so excited to enter into my marriage wtih Joy. Because of the wedding coming up, I have literally gotten phone calls and e-mails from people around the world. Ireland, The Philippines, China, Italy, and all over the U.S. Still, I am lonely, and honestly, this has been something I've been feeling for several months now. I guess this move to Chicago has been a lot harder than I thought it would be. I have no real friends here outside of Joy and it's becoming terribly hard for me. Perhaps that's why all this wedding stuff has me feeling more lonely. Even though I'm starting my marriage and hearing from friends and will get to see most of them at the wedding, I know that after that they will all go back home to their places far away and then I don't know the next time I will see them and actually be in relationship with them. Honestly, I hate that. Somedays I wonder what happened to myself. I used to go out of my way to be in relationship, to cultivate friendships, to pursue others, and I certianly haven't done that this semester and I fully acknowledge that I simply have taken no initative or shown any desire. Perhaps it's because I've allowed myself to be too busy, allowed myself to be content with what is easy, allowed myself to reach the point where I didn't want to make any new friends because I just wanted the friends I already had to be here. I want to cultivate those relationships with people I've already shared my story with, with people who know my strenths and weaknesses and passions, with people who I've laughed with and cried with and can share countless memories. I'm not saying this is all good, but I am saying that in many ways, this is where I'm at, but I'm realizing that this needs to change. I don't know if I'm more afraid of the work and effort and all that goes into new relationships or if I'm more afraid of losing those relationships I can't imagine living without. I know I'm relational, I know I love working with high schoolers, I know I love to be with people, but I feel like I've done pretty poorly at all of that this semester.

One of my favourite people in the world is my friend Neville. Nevs is teaching in China for a year, and as a result won't be able to stand up for me at my wedding next weekend. I completely understand and love that he's off exploring the world, but as I thought about it, I realized that Neville knows me in a way that no one in the world knows me. And I believe I know Neville in a way that no one else knows Neville. I guess I would say that our relationship is unique. But it deosn't stop there. This is true for all the other people who are sharing a part in the wedding: Blom, Taylor Horner, Drew, Kevin, Loralee, Taylor Skiles, Kelmo, Ulee, Dawnette, Bethany, Mark and Ange, Deborah, Conor Hugh. Then there are the many many people who have greatly influenced my lives who will simply be there for the wedding and the party afterwards. They all know me in unique ways and we have unique relationships. They all know me in ways that are specific to our relationship and I want them there because they represent something important to me even outside of the obvious. These pople have taught me much about myself, themselves, God; about love, forgiveness, faithfulness, trust, honesty, grace, obedience, accountability, laughter. It is these relationships I am afraid of losing, the relationships I desperately want to keep, and not only keep, but strengthen, deepen, and grow as we laugh and cry and go through life together. Perhaps this is a longing for Heaven itself. Perhaps loneliness is a reminder that there is so much more to come.

Can I Get A Witness?

I am still upset about something that happened on Wednesday evening, November 30. You see, Joy and I went to the Cook Country courthouse to get our Marriage License. You would think this would be an exciting moment. Needless to say, it was highly disappointing. We made our way to the office where we were helped by a very nice lady wearing a blue suit and white tennis shoes. When she asked for and I.D., I gave her my passport. Whenever I know I'm going to be asked for an I.D., I ALWAYS take my passport. I love that it shows it's worn and when I'm standing in lines I can look at all the pretty stamps and my ridiculous picture from when I was 18 and too cool to smile. (Don't even get me started on the fact that I recently found out that when your passport expires and you need a new one, they require the old one back since it's government property and all. Call me silly, but my passport is one of my favourite possessions, even if it is technically the governments, and I have no intention of parting with it...)

So we're standing at the little desk with the sign that says, "Marriage Licenses" and are being helped by this nice woman, who does somewhat scoff when she sees my passport because "they're just so hard to get to lay open to get the information I need." Well, even though my driver's license was sitting in my back pocket, I wasn't about to cave in. And yes, I realize I can be really weird about some things.

I wonder what happened to people's senses of humor. Maybe they just don't think I'm funny, which does make some sense. She told us she was about to ask us some questions, so in pure cheesy fashion, I gaze at Joy and ask if she wants to hold hands while we do this. Not a smile. She double-checked to make sure we're not cousins, took some data, asked us if we'd ever been married before (this was the moment I said to Joy, "Oh shoot...I knew there was something I've been forgetting to tell you..." Still no smile.), and then proceeded to ask us about our educations. When she found out we both had college degrees but I was in graduate school, she said, "So you're still going on, huh?" I was in one of those moods, so my only response was, "To the stars." This time, Joy didn't smile either.

Anyway, all of this is not the real root of my anger right now. You see, whenever I think about a marriage certificate, I envision there being witnesses to sign. Even in my brother's wedding this summer the witnesses signed the license right during the ceremony. Not in Illinois. Apparently they don't do that blessed tradition, and instead, to my utter disgust, some County Clerk named David Orr has his name printed on there as our witness. I was fuming as I left. I know it seems silly, but honestly, why can't I have people we actually know and love sign as our witnesses? Is Mr. David Orr going to be there when the marriage gets tough, when we need someone to remind us of our vows, when we need some accountability and encouragement? Somehow, I doubt it.

I wonder what it might look like if I tried to call him in 20 years, and said, "Hey, Davey, I'm having some problems in my marriage and you were my witness...wanna do lunch?" Then, when we get together and he asks for some I.D. to look up my name or whatever, you better believe I'll proudly hand over that passport that I refused to give up ten years earlier.

I Wonder

I wonder what it means to know God's glory.
I wonder what it means to reflect God's glory.
I wonder what it means to have His Kingdom here on Earth.
I wonder what it means to know the fig tree withered.
I wonder what it means to die in order to live.
I wonder what it means to love others as myself.
I wonder what it means to live only by faith.
I wonder what it means to find joy in suffering.
I wonder what it means to lose all in order to gain all.
I wonder what it means to extend grace to others.
I wonder what it means to extend grace to myself.

Flush

This blog entry shall have no merit. But I am perplexed by one simple thing. How might I put this delicately? Yesterday as I was using the restroom, another gentleman came in to use the urinal nearby. As soon as he approached the porcelein, he flushed it. This is what confuses me, and honestly, it's not the first time I've seen this happen. There are some people out there who flush before they go. I assume they also flush afterwards, but why before? Truly, I can't figure it out. If anyone out there can give some insight into this phenomenon, it would be must appreciated. Oh yes, one more thing: I am curious to know if this same phenomenon ever happens in the ladies' room across the hall. Hmm.

Puffy Vest

There are certain things I miss from the college days. I miss random activities like Puffy Vest Friday Night in the Union. My favorite part of this picture is Mary Beth peeking around the counter, distracted from her Vecino's latte-making. We would have included her in the picture, if only she was wearing a puffy vest...

Giving Thanks with Kelly

"And I'm thankful
for the blessing
and the lessons that I've
learned with you
by my side
that i'm thankful
so thankful
for the love
that you keep bringing
in my life
in my life
thankful
so thankful"

--Kelly Clarkson

Thanksgiving

My parents are on their way here from Ohio. They left around 8 this morning and will be coming in this afternoon. I can honestly say that I have never been this excited to see my folks. It's been really neat to see my relationships with them really develop and grow over these last few years and is something I'm wonderfully thankful for. So they'll be spending Thanksgiving with the Bellito family...something else I never thought would happen. Who knows, maybe it will be such a hit that it will become the first annual!

This morning I was up at 5:45 to do the normal Wednesday morning Bible Study that I have with a few of the high school guys I know. It is always a great time, and this morning there were just two of us. But when I opened the door to the house, the entire world around me was blanketed in a light snow and snow was still falling to the ground. I was SO excited. I know that come January 20th or so I'll be sick and tired of the cold and the wet and all that comes with winter, but this morning it was positively beautiful in the early morning light. I actually think I began to cry a little, just thinking about how cool nature is and how cool God is.

So on my way to Starbucks I decided that this was no normal morning for a Bible Study. So Dan and I met, grabbed some hot chocolate, and I told him we were going on a field trip. We drove to a nearby cemetary and walked around for a while in the peaceful morning snowfall. We talked about Revelation and how Jesus is coming back, about what it means to love, to be relevant. In essence, it was a beautiful morning, on many different levels.

I am SOOO looking forward to a couple of days with my parents, relaxation, good food, maybe a good book and a cup of chai. I wonder what my life would look like if I was really thankful every day, always looking to understand a little deeper how truly blessed I am. I honestly think it would revolutionize my life.

Khalia

It is no secret that I really love the family I've been living with for these last six months in Chicago. Put simply, they're fantastic. There are four kids in the family. Khalia is the youngest and is currently recently turned nine. She CRACKS ME UP every day. She is always asking me questions about my life and often says things that I don't think normally come out of nine-year-old mouths. She regularly tells me that she's gonna be so sad when I leave and contemplates the fact in her life that she's not married and will then forever be alone.

Last night Khalia was doing some more philosophizing, which I always love, but last night's I found particularly poignant. You see, I was pretty tired and stressed out, working on two big papers that I turned in today. So I am typing away and digging into books, and Khalia wonders why I can't play a game with her. Then she says, "You know, of all the commandments, I think the one people break the most is the one that says not to work on Sunday." Obviously, I felt like this was directed towards me, so Khalia and I and her father engaged in a little dialogue about work and rest and God and all of that. I left thinking a few things: 1) I can't imagine I ever even thought about this when I was nine, 2) why am I so bad at explaining things that I think to people, and 3) I can't argue with her about the importance of rest and I certainly don't do enough of that in my own life.

When I move out in about a month, I'm really gonna miss Khalia. And I bet I'll miss that I didn't take the time to play more games with her.

Surreal

Today is November 17th. In one month, one month exactly, I become a husband, I take a wife. Last night I was honestly screaming in my car as Joy and I were driving. I think it lasted for minutes on end. Not because I'm freaking out or nervous or all of that, but it's just so surreal. Whenever I think about it, that's the only word that seems to fit. At some level, I feel like I should be nervous, should be freaking out, but I'm really not, but I am totally excited. It's hard to believe it's really here and that this will be my last month as an unmarried man ever. Maybe I should go skydiving or mountain climbing or streaking or something as my last sign of unmarried youth. Oh well, I guess all of that doesn't really matter, because this is fantastic. I may not be an unmarried for long, but you better believe I sill plan on being a youth. I hope I always am. The Little Prince inspires me.

Apt. C

It's true...I am now a renter. I have an apartment. The wedding is still a month and a half away, but this weekend Joy and I began the move-in process. We start paying in December (dang, Chicago is expensive...), but they decided since the place is open, they might as well let us have it in November to move in. Really, it will be so great to get is at least a little bit organized and set-up before the wedding. It's a little ghetto, the building's a little old, but I really think it's gonna be great. It's kinda spacious, has a big kitchen, good storage, two bedrooms, and even a little a balcony.

This is what my life has become: the highlight of my weekend was that Joy and I found a couch and loveseat that we both liked and could afford. I know, this is not exciting at any level of your existence, but when you've been to countless furniture stores (and, honestly, all of them are somewhat sketch) and have had disagreements (arguments?) over end tables and fabric choice, you realize that your life has changed whether you like it or not.

My wish is that people will come and visit. Our floor space is your floor space (at this point, there are no beds...), so come and visit. Through the sketchy front door, up the breaking staircase, and then into our little home. We'd leave a light on, but at this point, there are no lights. Hey, at least there's a couch you can sleep on.

My Italian Neighbors!!!

When I was at the apartment on Wednesday, I heard something beautiful. I could overhear the people across the hall talking, and it wasn't English. At first I assumed it was Spanish since that's a pretty common language around here. But I listened a little more closely (literally, if they had walked out at that moment, I would have looked pretty stupid...) and heard a few words that were not Spanish but were most definitely....ITALIAN!!!

Now, you may not know, but one of my life dreams (right up there with going to all seven continents and climbing to Everest Base Camp) is to be at least moderately fluent in Italian. Really, a large part of me belongs to Italy, loving the food, the people, the architecture, the art, the history, the music, the wine, the scenery, and of course, the language.

I am not even close to being able to fluently speak Italian. I never was, although I was a lot better when I was last there two years ago. But I still have hope. I'm not sure if it will ever happen (how often will I really get to substantially practice and learn?), but like I said, it's still one of those life goals I have.

So this morning, I went over to the apartment by myself to take over a bookcase. As I got to the landing and got out my keys, the door across from me opened. A woman (probably in her thirties) came out and I said hello. She said hello and then said she didn't speak much English. I said, "Oh, what do you speak?" (while in my mind I was screaming "YES!!! She's SO ITALIAN!!!") and she reaffirmed my suspicions. I immediately began speaking in a horribly chopped Italian and she was most definitely shocked that I could speak it at all. I met her three children (aged 5, 3, and 1) as well as her husband who really speaks no English at all. Throughout our short conversation I realized that they have only been in the country for about three weeks.

There are some days that I honestly ache for Italy. I already have great plans for our neighbors across the hall. I want to love their children (Joy's a teacher!), share languages (we have already discussed practicing languages with each other), and have fun nights where we invite the others over for a good Italian-themed dinner and share a bottle of Italian wine while talking on the balcony late into the evening. I mean, they might be scared of me and we may never talk, but as of now, I have high high hopes.

When I left the apartment, I saw them again. I waved and said, "Ciao!" I am sure I looked way too happy and they wondered what was wrong with me. I didn't even care. I have Italian neighbors and that is a beautiful thing.

Story

I came across a quote yesterday that I just love to the depths of who I am. Here it is...

"I am my stories, and you are yours. What might happen if our stories truly met and danced? Could we stumble toward a Divine rhythm better for having storied together?" (Dwight Friesen, Mars Hill Graduate School )

I know know about you, but I personally think that's pretty sweet. I love the idea that my life is a story, that your life is a story, that our lives are a part of a larger story. There's something about it that, honestly, kinda gives me chills. I'm blown away by the fact that God would allow me to somehow be a part of other people's stories, get to experience my story chapter by chapter, be a little tiny part in His grand Story. Yeah, that's cool.

But while I read this quote and got those chills, I also realized something else: Sometimes I am really bad at allowing people to be a part of my story, sometimes I don't care to enter into someone else's story, sometimes I just close the book and leave it on the shelf.

I think that's what I often do, just close my story and leave it on the shelf while it gathers dust and cobwebs. I have been realizing more and more that I miss dancing with other people's stories. I miss sharing my story with others. In essense, maybe I miss knowing people. I believe God created each one of us with not only a unique story, but also the desire (drive?) to really be known by others. I am such a relational person. I need time away with a good friend, a nice long (heck, even a short) road trip, a campfire or a lake or a couch or a coffee shop or a field or another country or a bookstore or a bar. I need relationships. I need relationships with other people and I need relationship with God.

Tonight I've been thinking about God and wondering if this is how He feels sometimes. I wonder if He ever wonders, "Wow, I really want to be known. I created these beings to know me, to communicate with me, to be in relationship with me, to dance with me." It's midnight and it is a beautiful fall evening. I think I just might go on a walk and spend some time dancing with God. Yeah, that sounds really fantastic. Talk to you later. Thanks for being a part of my story.

Fifty and Counting...

Until now, I thought about the wedding in terms of months. Six months, five months, four months, three months. Well, I think I actually might now begin to think in terms of days. The wedding is fifty days from right now. Seven weeks from tomorrow. Wow. I can honestly say that I am totally excited. Recently, people have started asking me if I'm getting nervous. Honestly, as of now, I'm not. There were actually a few weeks a month or two ago that I was much more nervous than I am now. It is weird to think out. Even thought I'm totally excited, it's weird to think that in fifty day I begin something that will last for the rest of my life, that will affect everything I ever do again, will change what it means to be Stephen Becker. That's a lot to take in.
Sometimes (and this has happened a lot recently), I'm honestly blown away by how crazy in love I am with Joy. It's unbelievable, scary almost. It's weird that I always want to be in her presence, always want to know what she's thinking, always want her to love me back. I know all this is cliche, and I'm not really sure how to avoid that, but I have recently been reminded over and over again at how much I love her, how ridiculously lucky I am.
Mushiness aside, the wedding plans are coming along. It's true that I often feel like the list is getting longer rather than shorter, but we really are having a fun time doing all this planning together. Invitations are officially out, wedding music has been ordered, center pieces have been bought, the regestries are being utilized, wedding rings have been looked at, and just this week I even got measured for my tux.
Another big highlight in wedding news: Joy and I have signed a lease. We have a pretty descent two-bedroom apartment with a large kitchen, good storage, BIG closets, and even a little wooden balcony. Of course, at this point we have no furniture, but that is on the list of things to take care of. I get really excited when I think about having an apartment. Besides the obvious fact of getting to share a home with my wife, it's also true that I've never really had my own place. It was life with the Beckers for a long time, then college dorms, then another year of Beckers, and for the last six months I've been living with another family in Chicago. I get excited about things that may appear little but are in reality pretty big to me. Getting to hang things wherever I want, getting to be in complete control of the fridge, getting to organize things as I see fit, heck, getting to walk around all over in any state of dress or undress that I want. Really, it's remarkable. I'm sure the responsibilities will hit my utopian world soon enough (especially when I see that rent bill every month), but as of now, I see a whole lot of freedom. (Wow...until this moment, I never once associated marriage with freedom....)
Okay, that's enough about my world. I hope to see you all there in fifty weeks. It's gonna be a party.

October Rundown

As many people pointed out (Dawnette, thanks for the e-mail!), I sometimes fall into a blog slacker. I didn't write much this summer, but then I really picked it up again this fall. Or so I thought. I've been pretty absent for the last three weeks, so here is a rundown of my life...

• Camping with Ulee. Andrew Ulasich and I met in the summer of 2003 when we went to Nepal together. I love Andrew Ulasich. He challenges me on some really unique things and in a lot of ways, I really want to be more like him. Ulee is a junior now at TU and he studied last semester in Egypt, so since then we'd been planning to get together for a little bonding and "guy time." Well, it happened. We met up at the Tippecanoe State Park in northern Indiana, went kayaking down the great and powerful (okay, maybe not) Tippecanoe River where we chatted and glided along and also enjoyed an engaging discussion on evolution. (I'm currently reading McLaren's "The Story We Find Ourselves In," so I've been thinking about this a bit...) We then set up camp, went for a hike, ate muchos hotdogs, talked about life, love, and other mysteries, talked about TU and Trinity, talked about the upcoming wedding (Andrew is one of the distinguished ushers), cooked some beans over the fire, ate more hotdogs, realized we were very tired, piled on layers of clothes and blankets, layed down under the stars, talked, fell fast asleep with the cold fall air just beyond the fire. In short, it was a great time of frienship and fellowship, one that I really think I needed in this time of business and loneliness. Definitely a highlight of this fall. Be sure to look for Andrew on the dance floor in December. Aren't we so rugged?

• Midterms. Over the last two weeks, I had my first semester midterms here at Trinity. Overall, I was pleased, especially considering my lack of motivation. Now it's on to my AA presentation and a few papers. There is one paper I'm actually a little excited for so maybe I'll talk about that at a later date. But school is most definitely busy and challenging, and I'm way behind on reading and such, but I guess that just goes with the territory, right?
• Invitations. Because Joy and I couldn't imagine paying quite a substantial amount of money to have someone else address our invitations, we decided to do it ourselves. Little did we know what a process it would become, pretty much consuming our last three Saturday nights. We spent hours collecting and confirming addresses, writing addresses, getting stamps, etc., and I'm going to be furious when a few get sent back, which is guarenteed to happen. In total, there are around 300 invitations going all over the US, Candada, Ireland, China, Philippines, and of course, Italy. It also turns out that the total number invited is bigger than was thought a few weeks ago (and no, this is not my fault like many of you may be thinking), so we really may end up with more than what we promised Joy's parents. It really is a problem: we are pumped for everyone to be there but realize we're in big trouble if everyone is there. Only time will tell. Get your RSVP in soon or you may get a phone call saying we're already maxed out. Or we'll just tell you to bring your own sack lunch to the reception. But seriously, even though it was a lot of work, doing the invitatations was so much fun. It was so cool to see in one big list all the people that have been a part of our lives, influenced us, walking alongside us during certain times and chapters. There are people I haven't talked to in years, but wow, do they still mean a lot to me. It's amazing how many people God has brought into my life over the years and in different settings, and really, they've all changed and challenged me in some way, they've invested in me, made me laugh or cry or get angry, and many of them have helped me know Jesus more, taught me a little more about what it means to love. I love that. It was great to write invitations with Joy and hear some of her stories, listen to her talk about her relationships. I guess what I'm saying is that right now I'm feeling really tremendously overwhelmingly blessed.
• Revelation. I am helping out with the youth group at my church on Monday nights, where I have a small group. Out of that group, a few guys expressed interest in doing a separate Bible study and I was all for it. With everyone's busy schedules, we realized that the only consistent time we're all available is before school. So on Wednesday mornings at 6, we meet at Starbucks. When we first met, I told them I really wanted this to be something they were invested in and excited about so thought it'd be good if they picked out which book they'd like to study. Of course, they chose Revelation. Needless to say, it's keeping me on my toes, which is a good thing, since I've never really studied the book that much, and it's going wonderfully well. I am SO BLESSED by this group of guys, the ones on Monday nights and the ones on Wednesday mornings. I love seeing them get excited about Christ, seeing them challenge each other in what it means to be a Christ-follower while in high school (and they challenge me in this too...), and I love that they are willing to come every week so stinking early in the morning.

Well, I think that's plenty for now. That's a glimpse into my life this month. It's been crazy, but also pretty fantastic on many different levels. Peace out.

Dreams of Justice

"Seek justice, encourage the oppressed. Defend the cause of the fatherless, plead the case of the widow." (Isaiah 1:17)

This is what is on my mind today, but let's back up a little bit first...

I have two favourite chapel speakers that I remember from my time at Taylor University. The first is Ravi Zacharias. Anyone who knows me knows I thoroughly enjoy this man, as everyone should. To start off with, he has a kick-butt accent. He spoke at TU during my freshman year, during a time that I was really wrestling with questions about God, my faith, and how perhaps I saw a lot of Christians as stupid and naive. Well, Brother Ravi changed that. A well-known apologist, Zacharias struck me as not only an obviously intelligent man, but also a man who still found Christ compelling. On top of that, he was able to articulate his faith in a compelling and understandable way while also looking at the religions around us. Ravi always makes me think and be thankful that I know Christ. But today my purpose isn't to write about Ravi...

The other chapel speaker I remember was Gary Haugen, who I believe spoke during my sophomore year. (Really, for my haphazard attendance during those first two years, I got in some great speakers. Hmm...it makes me wonder if I missed anything good. Possible, but I doubt it...) For those of you who don't know, Gary is the founder of IJM, the International Justice Mission. Passionate about what he sees as God's calling in his (and really, all Christ-followers') lives, Haugen fights for those who can't necessarily fight for themselves. IJM fights for justice in many areas around the world, from getting stolen land back from widows in Africa, fighting illegal slavery and imprisionments, to rescuing girls out of sex trafficing and forced prostition all around the world, especially in Asia.

I remember leaving the chapel that Gary spoke at thinking, "Wow, I want to be a part of that. I want that to be a passion of mine. I don't want to sit by while others suffer, are tortured, lose all sense of dignity." Today, I still feel that way, probably more than I did four years ago. I say all this today because today at Trinity, Larry Martin, VP of Education and Dean of the IJM Institute, spoke on campus. Since I was first introduced to the International Justice Mission, one of dreams has been to work for them. I have many dreams, but that one is consistently at the top of my list. And I really would love to work for them, and who knows, maybe some day I will. But even if I don't, I know that I want to be more passionate, more aware, more involved with bringing justice to those who are powerless. And while I think IJM is doing a fantastic job, they are simply one organization, and I don't believe love and justice is regulated to simpkly one organization. I think of Shanta and the work she is doing in Nepal and India as only one example.

So this afternoon I am pondering over these things, wondering how I can do better, be more disciplined in prayer, be more informed, more active. I'm wondering how God might use my MA degree in Counseling Psychology if I continue on track and end up getting that degree in three years. I wonder what I can do during those three years. I wonder if I'm even in the right program even though I really love it on many levels and see its importance and relevance. I wonder about law school, about social work, about learning languages, about getting personally involved. I wonder about brining God glory, about my motives, about what it means to truly allow myself to be a tool that God may choose to work in and through. If you have any thoughts, let me know.

"Speak up for those who cannot speak for themselves, for the rights of all who are destitute. Speak up and judge fairly; defend the rights of the poor and needy." (Proverbs 31:8,9)

Homecoming!

Tonight Joy and I are driving to Taylor. I've been gone two years now, and I'm pumped to go back. Sure, it will be different, there will be a new sea of faces and none of them will know who I am or even care, but that's ok. Because I love my alma mater. Taylor University, in the middle of nowhere Indiana, is where I fell in love with Joy, fell in love with relationships, and fell in love with God. So yeah, it has played a pretty big role in my life. This weekend is going to be three days of glorious reunion. I'll see guys I lived with on Penthouse, Wengatz, several of my groomsmen, underclassmen I still love and keep in contact with, plus almost all of the other 2004 music majors will be back. We're having a party all to ourselves, which will most certainly be one of the highlights. When you have basically every class together for four years, tours around the world, countless concerts, lessons, rehearsals, sleepovers in the music building, you get to be pretty close.

Taylor U., here we come baby!

Addictions

If you read my last post, you realize I'm in a class called Alcohol and Substance Abuse Counseling. Of my six classes, I think it's my favourite, possibly tied with Marriage and Family Therapy. (Interesting enough, they're both taught by the same professor...) It's a really interesting class and the material just seems so relevant, so applicable, so necessary. I'm only about halfway through the semester and have two years to go, but I've begun to toss around the idea of what it might look like to work in the alcohol and substance abuse counseling field.

For class, I just finished reading a book titled "Addiction and Grace" by Gerald May, M.D. This book, along with the lectures and other texts, have really gotten me thinking about addictions. It's so easy for me to see an addition as something "they" have, something that's far away, something that is easy for me to stereotype into people who live in the inner city, on the street, or in jail. It is so easy to be terribly wrong, to keep it all at a safe distance, and while that may be comfortable for a while, I think it's a fraud.

May agrees. One of the presuppositions of his book is that "all of us suffer from addiction...We are all addicts in every sense of the word" (4). This may seem dramatic at first, or possibly flippant, but as I read and thought and processed, I realized that I think he's completely right. I began to think about my own addictions.

But of course, talking about addictions is only half of the title, the other is about grace. I love what May writes: "Grace is the most powerful force in the universe [I suppose I would say love is the most powerful, but grace flows out of love...]. It can transcend repression, addiction, and every other internal or external power that seeks to oppress the freedom of the human heart. Grace is where our hope lies" (4-5).

I say all this because the subject of addictions has bee on my mind, and not just because it's a class I'm in. A very good friend of mine is currently dealing with a powerful addiction, not in his life, but in the life of his father. I talked to him on my way home tonight, and after I hung out, I began to cry, hating the situation, hating the power of addiciton, hating the addictions in my own life, hating Satan, hating that a family was suffering, and not for the first time.

I want to believe that grace is where our hope lies, that God is bigger than the situation, bigger than my addictions, bigger than my hate. But tonight, my heart is also grieved. I long for truth. I long for freedom. I long for Christ to return.

Going to AA

Tomorrow night I am going to my first AA meeting. Alcoholics Anonymous. I am tremedously excited. You see, I'm going as part of the requirements for my Alcohol and Substance Abuse Counseling class. In that same class, we are also doing some group projects, and my group is focusing not only on why AA is successful (if indeed you believe it is, which I do), but more fascinating to me, what the Church can learn from AA. I spent a few hours today in the library reading about AA. Facts, stats, testimonials, how it all works. And I really think it's one of the more beautiful things I've encountered in quite a while. Really, there is much I can learn from AA, much the Church can learn from AA, much I think everyone could learn from AA. I plan to write on all of this at a later date, but as for now, I'm getting ready for my first meeting. Not exactly sure what to expect. I have visions of "Fight Club" where we're all in some dark basement and then some man just starts hugging me desperately, weeping uncontrolably. Somehow, I don't think that will happen, but I want to be prepared. (Loralee, remember when we would play "Fight Club" until the broozes on your arm got me in trouble....?)

Tonight was Monday so we had SonLife, which is the youth group at the church Joy and I attend. Honestly, I love love love high schoolers. I love talking with them, listening, hearing their thoughts. I love getting to see what it is like to follow Christ while in high school and getting challenged and encouraged by those really stepping up in a good way. I love being in a small group with a half dozen guys, thinking about the Bible and God and Christ and Love and all sorts of things. Plus, I really love the ice cream every week that has become a quick tradition. My absolute favourite still reigns supreme: Breyers Peach.

Long Live Julie!

Happy October to you all! It is pretty common knowledge that Julie Andrews and "The Sound of Music" have had quite an influence on my life, especially during my younger years. Well, today, the first of October, is her birhday, and this year she turns 70 years old. So I thought it would be appropriate to have a little party in celebration. Well, since I don't actually have any friends in the area and since any friends that I did have probably wouldn't come to a Julie Andrews birthday party, the party tonight is going to consist of Joy and me watching "The Sound of Music," maybe "Mary Poppins" too while we address 300 wedding invitations. Hopefully watching the movie will bring some entertainment to a certainly rather tedious task.

I hope that wherever you are, you too are celebrating. The hills are alive!!!

Too Long

I have so many questions. No real answers. This happens to me all the time. More and more it seems. Part of me likes it, but the rest of me realizes that it drives me crazy.

I realize that it has been too long since I've had a close friend talk with me late into the night. I don't mean by e-mail or phone or any of that. I mean actual human flesh and bones. I am not even too particular as to who this friend should be. As long as we can be honest about our questions about faith and life and Christ and love together I'm fine. I don't even necessarily want to find "answers"...I just want to think through out loud some thoughts with another person.

If you want to be that person, let me know. I'll meet you halfway.

Love Without Return

I had one of those eye-openeing experiences today in church, and it actually had nothing to do with the message. You see, there was some tension between my fiancee, Joy, and me. Not really a fight or even a disagreement, just some tension. What really happened was that something was said that I took pretty personally. In essence, I was quite hurt. But rather than be hurt, which is quite a vulnerable and intimate feeling, I turned that into a type of anger, which is much safer, less personal, and so much easier. I think we (myself included) do this a lot and this was one of those instances.

But between the youth service and the main service today in church, I was thinking about how I hated the tension and obviously needed to talk with Joy about what was going on and all. You see, in my hurt turning into anger, I was being pretty rude towards her, short and curt and unloving. And as I thought about what I would say to her, I wanted to apologize for my actions, but also convey what was going on in my anger. Not really to dismiss or excuse it, but to bring to light that someone I loved deeply had really hurt me. And then I realized that part of what was going on was that it was hard for me to love someone when I felt no love from that person in return.

It hit me instantly. That's what God does every single moment. He loves me every single moment and His love does not depend on Him feeling my love in return. That's a pretty awesome thing. Actually, it's a really awesome thing, and that was a great moment for me this morning. It was also great to dialogue about all this with Joy after church. I do want to love well. I want to love unconditionally, and I'm so far from that, especially, it seems, with those who are closest to me. I want to love without having to have love in return.

Three Months

Three months from today and I am getting married. Joy will walk down the aisle and we'll say our vows before friends, family, God. It's really surreal. Cool to think about, something that's totally exciting, but also surreal. I think these months will fly. I soon will be a husband which means I have a wife. It seems odd that I'm becoming a husband when sometimes I feel like I'm becoming more and more like a little boy.

Robert Wise

I am a little saddened today. While reading the newspaper, I found out that Robert Wise died on Wednesday at the grand age of 91. To many, Robert Wise means absolutely nothing. But I'm different.

You see, growing up, I remember watching The Sound of Music about once a week. Every Easter and Christmas for sure. I memorized everything about the movie, the lines, the music, the dances, even the opening credits. And I always remember seeing: "Directed by Robert Wise." I've read a little bit about Wise over the years and always found myself admiring him. Martin Scorcese, one of the leaders who campaigned to give Wise an American Film Institute award for life achievement in 1998 told the Chicago Tribune: "He represents the American tradition of excellence and honesty and integrity...he was the Steven Spielberg of his time."

The thing is that if I had to list some characteristics of the American tradition, I'm not sure excellence, honesty, and integrity would be in there. Maybe half a century ago. But now? I'd say those are three gaping holes within out current tradition.

The Sound of Music was the movie of my childhood. As I grew up, I continued to love a good musical, and I eventually settled on my all-time favourite either on the stage or screen: West Side Story. It wasn't until years later that I discovered Robert Wise directed this film as well. Along with Lenny Bernstein, Steven Sondheim, and Jerome Robins, these men made movie-musical histroy when they brought the Sharks and the Jets/Capulets and Montegues to America in 1961.

For those of you who don't know musicals, one of Wise's earlier jobs was editing Citizen Kane, for which he was nominated for an Oscar. He was actually nominated many times, winning two directing awards for The Sound of Music and West Side Story.

I know these movies were made decades ago and aren't really that cool or popular any more. I'm okay with that. But I am a little sad today. I appreciate his modest nature, his attitude towards his craft, his family. On a cold afternoon or relaxing weekend this fall I'll put in one of those movies. I need to see them again.

My Hummingbird

I had a reall beautiful afernoon today. I had a few hours between classes so I thought I would go and relax down by the pond, read some Psalms, lay in solitude, that kind of thing. I went to a grocery store first and bought a little block of cheese and some break, filled up my Nalgene, and found my own private spot tucked away in a corner. I instantly was amazed at what there was to behold.

First, there was a frog that would come up for a while, sit there disguised among the weeds, and then disappear again. There were three ducks playing some version of keep-away. I saw some movement from my left and saw an ant carrying away a piece of fallen bread about half his size. Then I layed on my back for a while. It really was the perfect afternoon with a good steady wind. When especially strong, the first leaves of fall would come sailing down and then float on the water. Then my favourite moment...

I saw a movement off to my right and I turned. There in the brush I saw a tiny little hummingbird, just sitting on a twig. Now, I don't know about you, but I don't see a lot of hummingbirds. Once in a while they'll come flying for a second to some feeder filled with sugar-water or whatever, and I did see some behind wires at the Omaha Zoo. But never before had I seen out in the wild (well, as "wild" as you can call a pond in the Chicago suburbs) just staying still. Every once in a while it would flitter about and find a new branch to rest on, but mostly it just sat there. It was positively gorgeous. It was maybe an inch and a half long and was bright yellow. Kinda like the colour of a dandelion. There was a gray tail and some highlighting under the eyes. Truly splendid.

Basically, I was a little giddy boy. I realized that when I walk by every day on my way to class, there really is so much I'm missing out on, something that God created. If He has His eye on the sparrow, then I bet He's watching that tiny hummingbird too.

I think that's cool.

Mystery Syrup

Somehow life just gets too dang busy. I know that I should "beware the barrenness of a busy life" as we learned in Nepal, and honestly, that's difficult to do. This week I've worked a lot at both my jobs, had classes, worked on wedding stuff, read some books, and didn't spend as much time with Joy as I would have liked. Or with God for that matter.

It just seems there is always a list of things I need to be doing. And the more I do, the longer the list gets. Perhaps business breeds business.

Anyway, today is a good day. I'm coming out of my shell at Starbucks, and honestly, I don't know if Chicago's ready for it. With all their SUV's and "normality" and Grande Nonfat Lattes and all. But th majority of people at Starbucks that I work with seem to be enjoying it. I'm honestly a crazy silly goofball and it's a delight. I'm a child. I make up games, sing songs, and even do little jigs here and there, all as I'm brewing coffee, steaming milk, pulling shots.

My favourite game when business is a little slow is to play "Mystery Syrup." When a customer orders a mocha or latte, I tell them about the game: "If you want to play, you turn around for a moment and I will put a little bit of any syrup flavour in your drink. Then you can try to guess what it is. If you like it, everyone wins. If not, I'll make your drink just as you ordered it."

I love the people that go for it. Sadly, it's the minority. Where is our childlike love of games, anticipation, mystery? I don't see why it can't be a part of a silly coffee drink after all.

And besides, so far I haven't had to remake any drink.

Yeah, I'm that good.

A Student Once Again

Well, I'm done with the first two weeks of graduate school here at Trinity International University. I'll admit that sometimes I feel like I'm in way over my head. I suppose a lot of grad students feel that regardless, but since I'm in a Counseling Psychology program with no undergraduate psychology degree, sometimes I feel a little lost. Not usually, but sometimes. Terms and vocab and theories and all of that all run together. All the professors say it doesn't matter, so we'll see if that's true.

I'm enrolled in six classes. Intro to Pscyhology, Counseling Theories, Foundations of Mental Health Counseling, Counseling Skills Training, Substance Abuse Counseling, and Marriage and Family Therapy. There isn't any one that I really don't like, which seems like a good thing to me. But I do have my favourites, as we all do, and so far they are Substance Abuse and Marriage and Family Therapy. I don't think it's a coincidence that my two faves are also taught by the same professor. He makes class interesting, relevant, and open to discussion. And I suppose I just find the classes downright interesting, maybe because they both seem so practical and relevant.

So that's what this semester holds for me. Three years in a program seems like so long, but I assume it will fly by. I guess just one day at a time.

Happy September to you all.

Generosity

I really want to be more generous. I kinda hope I always want to be more generous, even while I continue to grow in my generosity.

For these six months while living in Chicago before getting married, I'm living with a pretty amazing family. You see, I have my own room in the basement and they don't let me pay rent. I've tried and been turned down on a few occasions. They always invite me to join them for dinner, tell me what's in the fridge, and are hosts to friends coming in and out on weekends.

There are four kids in the family I live with, two of whom are adopted. At the end of the summer, I wanted to give them a little something. So I wrote a little card and wrote a little check. Nothing much, just a little thank you. Then I went to work. When I came home from work, I found a card on my bed:

"Stephen, we can only say how much you being here this summer has blessed our family. Like the girls said, 'I wish he could stay forever!' You always have a place here. And like I told you when you came--you owe us nothing. We can only pray that someone will be generous with one of our kids someday...Thanks for blessing us by living here."

I was blown away. What amazing love and giving. This summer I've been working my way through Brian McLaren's "A New Kind of Christian." In the last chapter I read, he was talking about generosity. He believes that "if the new kind of Christian we [have] been dreaming about wasn't radically generous, it [is] a waste of time...If we can't discipline ourselves to learn the joys of generous living, I think we're an embarrassment to the gostpel" (112). I find myself completely agreeing. I guess I see generosity as an outflow from selfishness, and outflow from love, and we all have heard that they will know we are Christians by our love.

The Wightmans have shown me some pretty amazing love this summer, some pretty amazing generosity. I want that to be a quality I cultivate in my life.

The End of Summer

It seems Summer 2005 has come to an end. In a lot of ways, it's been fun. Lots of good weddings, seeing friends, moving to Chicago and being close to Joy...all good things. There was a Cubs game, Taste of Chicago, meeting Ryan Seacrest, playing tennis, visiting Oregon (and Rainier National Park!), hanging out in Minneapolis, Michigan, and Nebraska for some weddings, "March of the Penguins, going to Ravinia, having Taylor from Boston and Taylor from Oregon both visit, going to the beach, and all sorts of wedding planning. And let's not forget the DJ at the Blomgrens' wedding. Yeah, it's been a good summer.

I also realized this summer how nice it is to have a job you really actually enjoy. I used to have that at the OG in Ohio and I am not too crazy about either of the jobs I had this summer and continue to have. I usually like Starbucks but wish it paid more. As for the restaurant, well, let's just say I'm tolerating it.

Joy started teaching today. Her very first classroom full of fourth graders. I'll be honest...I'm pretty proud of her. Following Becker family tradition, I made her a big breakfast this morning and saw her off to school. I have no doubt she's going to be an amazing teacher and that she'll love her job.

As for me, I start classes tomorrow. Today I went to Trinity and paid my bill for the semester. Then I came home and saved over $100 on books by buying them online, but still spent about $325. Depressing.

To celebrate the end of our summer, Joy and I took off after church on Sunday and spent the day together at a beach north of Chicago. We loved it and wondered why we didn't find ourselves there more often this summer. I guess that's just what happens. It's weird to think that next summer I'll be married. Youth is quickly fading away and I'm not sure what I think about that.

At least next summer I can sing the Grease medly (with the Blomgrens' wedding DJ of course) and say "Summer Lovin,' Had Me a Blast..." and still be within the realm of Christian purity. Perhaps I am okay with this whole "youth fading away" business. Either way, here it comes.

Welcome students and teachers. The school year is upon us.

Birthdays

While I was napping this afternoon, my sister left a message and said, "Oh, and I'm sure you remembered, but today is Chris' 30th birthday." Chris is my brother, and no, of course I didn't remember. Because really, I'm normally very bad with birthdays. I usually don't even remember and when I do, a simple "Happy Birthday" or a little card seems sufficient. Unless it's your brother and he's turning 30.

Immediately I called my sister and her husband, Tim, and left a message on their machine: "Help! Can I go in on a gift with you? I can't believe it's Chris' birthday," etc., etc.

Then I called my mother. I told her of the dilemna and then she said, "Did you remember that Chris and Tim have the same birthday?" I couldn't believe it. I had just left a message on Tim's answering machine about Chris' birthday, so it's now obviously clear that I also forgot about his. Jen, Chris' wife's, is on Monday, so so far I'm not behind on that one. Thank goodness.

Now I have to figure out what I'm doing for Chris' birthday. As for the in-laws, a call just must be enough. I called Joy at work at Pottery Barn and told her to buy them something. I think in marriage when we divvy up jobs, I'll pay the bills and she'll be in charge of all anniversaries and birthdays because I can never get it right.

In Nepal they don't celebrate birthdays. You mention birthdays to them and they really don't know what you're talking about. Amazing. I knew I loved that country.

Withdrawn

Maybe I'm slightly depressed. Maybe I'm lonely. Maybe I'm just tired and grumpy and need a good week's sleep. I dunno. I just never feel like my "normal" self anymore, which means that my current "normal self" is a slightly depressed/lonely/tired person. I'm withdrawn from the world, from relationships, from God. I miss spending time with my Creator, something I used to love to do.

It may sound weird to say and a little too "Christianese," but I actually do miss Jesus. It seems that whereas before I got to know Him, I didn't notice as much what I was missing, but now that I actually have this relationship, I notice when the relationship is distant and missing and stale.

My New Friend, Ryan...

I really had a wonderful weekend that I thought I'd share a little about. My dear friend Taylor Horner was in town from Boston (via North Carolina for the summer) and we spent a few glorious days together. It was good to have an old friend around, especially one that I rarely see anymore and also at a time when I'm realizing more and more what it's like to live in an area with really no friends to speak of. It's not exciting.

Anyway, the highlight that I wanted to share about happened on Saturday afternoon. I finished working at Starbucks and we jumped on the train for downtown Chi-town. It was a normal Saturday for everyone else on that train, but for us, something special and extraordinary was about to happen. You see, doing a promotional at the clothing department at Marshall Field's was....Ryan Seacrest. Believe it, AI fans, there he was, in the flesh. You see, he has this new clothing line out...the R Line...and was debuting it downtown. I remembered seeing it in a catalog a few weeks ago and Taylor was the perfect person for this kind of activity. (Loralee, our fellow AI judge, we thought of you as well and wished you could have been there...)

We found ourselves surrounded by mostly 13-year-old girls, gawking and squealing and all that jazz. There was a rather long line to stand in if you wanted to meet Ryan, so Taylor and I decided to come up with another plan. There was also a very short line (basically nonexistent) that you could go in if you bought any clothes from the R Line. Now, the clothes aren't that good, are pretty expensive ($300 sweaters?!), and since most of the people were 13, no one was buying anything.

Taylor and I are geniuses.

We bought a t-shirt (for the record, it was black and long-sleeved and said "I am not a rock star") for $38 and then happily got in the short line. We chatted with Ryan for several minutues, talking about AI, what his plans were that night (he said he had to get back to L.A. for the Teen Choice Awards), and about Taylor auditioning in Boston. He really was extremely kind and didn't rush us at all as he signed several different things. (And yes, it's true that he's quite short and he kinda has a funny looking jaw/lip...we think he might have had some surgery that just didn't quite work out).

We told them we didn't want out shirt signed. Why? Here is where genius ensued. As soon as we finished with Ryan, we walked upstairs to the men's clothing section and promptly returned our new t-shirt. We cut hours standing in line. Soon we'll get our pictures back and I'll have new proof of my new-found friendship.

It was a day to remember. People at Starbucks and Regina's either think it's fantastic, or more likely, rather bizarre, especially since I was there with another 23-year-old guy. I think they're just jealous.

Becker, out.

Accepting Grace

Today is one of those days I want to accept grace. Actually, I really desire to accept grace every day, and I hope that continues, but today's one of those days I really really desire to accept grace. The thing is that I don't always accept it. It's always there, but sometimes my pride or guilt or self-pity keep me from accepting it. I don't understand why I sometimes don't want freedom from sin or guilt or whatever...maybe it all comes back to self-pity and all of that. Anyway, tonight is one of those nights I am choosing to accept grace. I want it in abundance.

Victor's Fire

It was one of those really hot days here in Chicago yesterday. Usually my car is parked in a parking garage and really doesn't travel too far, but when it's hot, my car does struggle some. For that matter, when it's really cold, my car struggles too. It's really perfect in the spring and fall.

Anyway, Joy and I were out and about yesterday running all sorts of errands. We stopped towards the end of our journeys to get some gas. Well, when I turned the car on, I noticed the oil warning light blinking. I opened the hood, noticed the oil cap was rather hot, and checked the oil. I figured I might as well put a little more in. Well, I didn't focus on the task at hand and I spilled some oil over the side of the oil container.

Instantly, the oil caught on fire. I called out to Joy, "Get out of the car...it's on fire."

Needless to say, panic ensued. The flame started to go down while Joy and I wondered what on earth we were actually supposed to do. Call 9-1-1? Water? We just watched it go, fearing it would blow at any moment. Eventually, I just started blowing. Yes, blowing. And the wonderful thing is that the fire went out.

It was a rough day for Victor, but today he seemed to be back to his normal faithful self, with the normal squeeks and grunts. I was never so afraid to get in a car and turn the key. Thankfully, I've lived to tell this true tale.

Like Mother Like Son

A few nights ago I was able to talk with Regina's son, Franco, who just turned 13. Franco is interested in music and theatre, so it really was a good little chat. Later, when I asked him if he wanted to pursue a career in theatre, he said, "Yeah, but only if I make a lot of money." I had flashbacks to my conversation with his mother and realized he was the exact same.

I remember my days in theatre back in high school and all. I loved community theatre. I would do it again in an instant. There are great sacrifices of time and energy, but such rewards as well! Rehearsals every night till about midnight, scrounging around for props or costume pieces, never enough time to do any homework....ah yes, I loved the theatre! Of course, we all did this and no one was paid, not the leads, not the chorus members, maybe not even the director. We did it because we enjoyed the art of acting, because we believed truth could be beautifully (and tragically) portrayed on stage.

I mentioned to Franco that it really wasn't all about money, and he kinda laughed. "No, really it is. I can't live without having a lot of money." The boy is 13 years old. "If I don't make it big, it's not worth it."

Franco calls himself an actor. He's not an actor by any real definition. Franco desires fame and fortune, he doesn't care about art and theatre and truth and beauty and all that true actors believe in. I was saddened.

I guess it just runs in the family.

Ravinia Scandal

Last night the Blomgrens and future Beckers went to Ravinia. I'll just give my favourite highlight. For those of you who don't know, Ravinia is an outdoor music festival and the summer home of the Chicago Symphony Orchestra. People bring food and beverages, play cards, sit in the grass and listen to some pretty fantastic music.

Well, we had quite the night planned. We had a little outdoor table (thanks, Mr. and Mrs. B!), candles, centerpieces, cards, wine, snacks, food, blankets, chairs. We were set. Truly, the envy of all Ravinianites.

So we're happily grilling on our little grill, hotdogs and hamburgers and chicken filets. All is going well for about twenty minutes. Then a man with a walkie talkie approaches us and kindly informs us that apparently grills aren't allowed in the park. Here we are, for maybe half an hour, with people all around, and we've practically got a little farm on our grill with smoke billowing in all directions, and now we're getting told we have to immediately take the grill out of the park.

Apparently, we don't hurry fast enough, and he continues: "You see that building over my right shoulder? They're watching you from there with binoculars."

It doesn't get any better.

"Is there any money in that?"

Last night was a busy one at Regina's Ristorante. I ended up getting all sorts of good tables towards the end of the night and was the last server there. Well, when it was all slowing down and my last table was just finishing their bottle of wine, I talked a little bit to Regina. Yes, Regina, as in Regina's Ristorante. She's not usually at the restaurant (she's at the new one that just opened a few weeks ago), but her husband Phil is. So last night was my first real time to talk with Regina.

It all started harmlessly enough. She asked me how many nights a week I've been working at the restaurant. I told her five but that would get cut to about three when school started in a few weeks. She asked what I was going to school for and I told her counseling. The normal question followed: "What do you want to do with that?" I told her I wanted to do something with travel and youth ministry. I quickly realized she didn't think this was all that great.

She had a look of disgust on her face and replied, "Is there any money in that?"

I told her there really wasn't and she just said, "Well, I guess eveyone has to do something."

I told her I wasn't really going into it for the money, and it was pretty clear she thought I was really really odd. It's not like at Taylor when people would look down on you if you were going into something for the money. Indeed, it was the exact opposite, and honestly, I was a little hurt, a little saddened, a little discouraged.

That's all to my little story. See you later.

Cather in the Rye

I have challenged myself to read more fiction, mostly classic fiction from the years before. Well, I've always hears about "Cather in the Rye," and last night I turned the last page. Holden had become something of a companion to me, a companion by whom I was very much intrigued and perplexed. It seems loneliness is common, that growing up is difficult, that sex is confusing.

Like Holden, I completely agree with all three statements.

Where is the Love?

We sell newspapers at Starbucks so just about everyday I check out the headlines. And almost every time I do, I get sad and see that there's been another bombing, another attack, dozens more killed.

Last weekend I was reading in the Chicago Sun-Times during my lunch break and almost started to cry. It just seems there will be no stop. It seems that seeing bombings and seeing people living in fear has become the norm in our world.

In the Sun-Times on Saturday, July 23, I read about the one suspect killed by the London police in the corner of a subway car. Towards the end of the article, I read that "Muslims gathered for afternoon prayers, voicing renewed concerns about a backlash. One mosque was evacuated after a bomb threat...More than 100 alleged revenge attacks have been reported since the July 7 suicide attacks."

It really seems that the world has become madness. The Black Eyed Peas had it right. In their song, "Where is the love?" (and no, this does not mean I am affirming all of the Black Eyed Peas philosophy...) they sing,

"People killin', people dyin'
Children hurt and you hear them cryin'
Can you practice what you preach
And would you turn the other cheek

Father, Father, Father help us
Send some guidance from above
'Cause people got me, got me questionin'
Where is the love?"

I'm just a little overwhelmed with the world today. And honestly, I really wonder what can be done, what I can possible do. I wonder if Christians can love more. I wonder if I can love more. I wonder about a lot of things, but today I most wonder when it will be that Jesus will return.

My Buddhist Boss

I've been working quite a bit at Starbucks these last few weeks. Some days I like it, some days I don't. Today one of the other baristas asked me when I had gone to Germany (some German girls had come in so I had talked about Germany with them) and then asked me what other countries I'd been to. I kinda felt embarassed (and also remember how amazingly blessed I am) and towards the end of the list I said "Nepal."

I've been thinking about Nepal a lot lately. I think about Nepal a lot all the time it seems, but especially this summer since Taylor and Dawnette and Scotty are there. But when I said Nepal, my boss, John, the store manager, got so excited. John had told me when I interviewed that he was Buddhist and he didn't say much, and the store was pretty busy, but he mentioned how he would love to go there, visit Tibet and the places of Buddhism and speak with monks and the Dalhi Lama.

I found myself quite sad. I wanted to sit down and talk with him for hours about what I experienced in Nepal and why I choose to follow Christ. I would be so scared, and part of my sadness came from knowing that I never feel like I have enough answers for a good apologetics discussion. I know it's not about answers and questions and finding contradictions and reasons, but it just helps in my mind. I find myself wanting to talk to him about Buddhism and why that is the religion he chooses, but I haven't yet. Perhaps over time. Perhaps we will have good and challenging discussiong (for both of us) and come to a greater understanding of our own and the other's religion. Perphaps God will use me. Perhaps I will run away and simply move to Nepal, open a Starbucks, and wait for all of the people that may come my way.

My July Life

It seems my life has become "normal." I don't like it one bit actually.

The weddings of the summer are pretty much over, climaxing two weekends ago when Joy's brother and my brother got married the same weekend. Lots of family, lots of laughter, lots of fun. I think the absolute highlight had to have been when my sister passed out during my brother's wedding. Thankfully she was hidden at the moment by the groomsmen, so many people didn't even notice, but I saw the whole thing happen while I was singing, so needless to say, it was quite the event of the day. Matt and Becki are still in Hawaii and Nate and Jess our on their way back to the Philippines (via Hawaii and Japan...think they saw the Bellitos on the beach?) and I have been back to a whole lot of work here in Chicago.

I know it's good for me, it really is. Especially since Joy and I sat down and realized just how many expenses are coming this way this fall. Graduate school, honeymooon, wedding rings. Goodness, we even want to start a mutual fund. So many mornings I wake up at four for my Starbucks gig, get a little nap in the afternoon, and then head to the restaurant. Then I do the whole thing again the next day.

Like I said, I don't like it one bit.

It just seems like being an adult really isn't all that much fun. My dad used to always tell me this and I never wanted to believe him. I still don't. I want to believe that even if life is regular and monotonous and routine, I can still love it and I can still love my job.

Somedays I like Starbucks and other days I dream of pouring 180-degree steamed milk all over some customer. Some days I like the restaurant and other days I dream of walking out right in the middle of a busy Saturday night.

I think part of the whole problem is that I don't actually know anyone. I know Joy and her parents and that's about it. I don't feel very comfortable at either of my jobs and don't actually think any of the people I work with actually know one real thing about me. That makes me sad. It also makes me lonely. I remember I used to laugh a lot. I miss that. I miss friends. I miss being comfortable.

That's all I have to say for now. I am optimistic and remember that I hated the OG for many months and then was shockingly sad when it was time to leave. Maybe I'm just not as good at change as I thought I was.

My Weekend Rundown

Oh how the days have gone. I am on my way to take a nap (I was up at 4 this morning...), so I'm gonna make this short.

SATURDAY
The future in-laws, Mr. and Mrs. Bellito, took Joy and I to Wrigley for my second Cubs game of the year. This time, there were no snow flurries, the ivy was in full glory, and we had pretty fantastic seats, about 25 rows up right on the first base line. Pretty sweet. I even learned how to keep score with a score card and will proudly show it to anyone who is interested. Cubs lost again (I think they're at 4 in a row now or something), which means I still have never seen them win, but hopefully soon. There's just something about it that makes me long to go back.

SUNDAY
After a morning church time with the visiting Eric Miller, the Wightman youngings and I made a great lunch of BLT's supplemented by Mrs. Wightman's ridiculously amazing cookies. Then it was off to meet Loralee for a day downtown. It was my first time to the Taste of Chicago and it was everything I thought it would be. We walked with the masses, stopping every once in a while to trade in some tickets for some tasty treat. We felt amazingly American. We couldn't imagine any other country where people pack out the park to walk around and feed themselves over and over again all afternoon. In essence, we loved it. My favourites were a giant steak burrito, a watermelon icee, and a great saffron rice with goat meat. Yummy. After walking with the hundreds of thousands, we found our way to a little grassy area near the lake where we spread the blankets, opened up the bag of cherries, and sat and waited for the fireworks show. We ended up running into all sorts of people from Joy's church and eventually Breck and Heather, our friends from Blom's wedding, found their way to our area as well. The fireworks were positively splendid and the rush to find a bathroom afterwards was priceless...

MONDAY
In the morning I went to the church where all the Royal Servant teams had gathered for a commissioning service before flying overseas. Kelly's sister Kim is off to Nepal this summer, so the Blomgrens were there as were many RS alumni that I cherish and love. There was even a surprise visit by Andrew Ulasich and Drew Torrence. Truly, a great afternoon. We then took the Blomgrens and headed over to the Bellito residence for a 4th of July dinner.

TUESDAY
This morning, at 9:53 a.m., I passed my verbal exam and officially became a Starbucks barista. I am no longer just a partner, but I now possess that coveted title which basically means I can make any possible drink you may throw at me. Bring it on. It was a proud moment in my life.

With that said, I'm heading down for a nap. Peace out.

Spirit Animal

I learn something new everyday.

Today I was put behind the bar at Starbucks, making all sorts of Americanos, carmel macchiatos, and of course, lattes.

I was most intrigued, however, when a fellow partner (I have to finish my training in order to call myself a "barista"...) made a soy banana-strawberry blended creme. Well, she was peeling the banana from the top, so I simply said, "You know, you should open the banana from the bottom like monkeys do."

Her response: "The monkey is my spirit animal."

After that, I found myself with nothing to say.

Wide Awake

Okay, it's 11:15 p.m. I know that's not late. Not at all. The only thing is that I have to be at Starbucks at 5, which means the alarm clock is going off at 4 in the morning. I'm not too happy about that.

This weekend I had the grand opportunity to help out with Royal Servants as the students flew into Chicago for a week of training before heading overseas. I absolutely loved it. Joy and I made a couple of trips to Midway, found sleeping bags for some guys whose luggage didn't make it when they did, did a really early airport run, and just helped out around the church wherever we could.

Joy had to leave yesterday morning earlier than I did, so when the six buses all pulled out of the parking lot, I was the only one left. I stood there cheering everyone on as they began their journey towards training camp on a hayfield in the middle of nowhere.

As I walked back to my car, I'll be honest, I started to cry. Just a little bit, nothing too dramatic. You see, I've come to believe quite strongly that youth ministry is what I'm called to be a part of and is something in which I find tremendous joy and reward.

As the students left with feelings of anxiousness, excitement, and fear for what will be coming their way this summer, I couldn't help but imagine what they will feel in six or so weeks. Sure, not to every single student, but to a great majority, their lives will be changed in some way because of this summer. That's something I want to be a part of. I want to be there when they ask that one really great question or for really the first time decide they want God and accept that He wants them. I want to be there when their heart breaks for people around the world. I want to be there when they come to see America in a new light because of the country overseas they are experiencing. I want to be a part of the relationships that are going to be built, the tears and laughter that will doubtlessly occur. I want to be there when at the end of the summer the team has become a family and they wash each other's feet and partake in communion together.

So I'm wide awake. I see so many faces of students I met this weekend. Some I talked with and some I didn't. I find myself praying for each one, asking God to become real to each of them in amazingly new ways, for them to learn what it means to live a life of faith based on grace, to learn what it means to love well.

Those are my thoughts this evening. Four o'clock comes early, so I'm gonna try again to fall asleep. I just find myself wanting to go. Desperately wanting to go. Hopefully next year at this time I'll be getting up early again. Not for Starbucks, though. I'll wander out of my tent, walk under the big top, get some coffee from the make-shift office, and head out to the field to wake up the students. Goodnight.

Where is DeMario?

Two days ago, on Monday afternoon, Joy and I were just leaving the Wightman house when we saw someone approaching the front door. It was DeMario. He was probably around 17 or 18 years old and was from downtown Chicago. He spoke about how he desired to work towards an education and a betterment of himself. He was wearing black pants, a white shirt, and a tie. He had his speach down, but you could tell he was nervous, and when he messed up once he told us it was his first day on the job. Basically, he was selling magazines door-to-door, and with each subscription sold, he got so many points. I really was somewhat confused with how the whole system worked and all and Joy and I aren't really in the need of any new subscriptions. He would then say something like, "But a simple subscription can help a young man like myself better himself and not return to being a nuisance to society in the city."

Honestly, I loved him. Right from the start. Sure, I don't really know his story, but I still think it would take tremendous courage to leave the inner-city and come out to the suburbs, where people are rich and rude and white, and try to sell magazines door-to-door.

Anyway, we told him we didn't want a subscription and got into the car and drove around the block. Then Joy and I did some talking and I realized that I wanted to do something. I had just read the night before about how faith without works is dead and all of that. So Joy and I went around the block again and found DeMario. I went out to talk to him and told him that although we didn't want any magazies, we'd love to get to know him better and maybe could take him out for dinner or ice cream or something. He seemed eager about it and took my phone number. He said he'd call that night. He still hasn't called. I think Joy and I were both a little disappointed when we didn't hear from DeMario. I am still hoping he calls.

DeMario asked one really amazing question, something I'm not sure I'd thought about before. At one point, he said, "What is it that you have done that have made you two the successful people that you are?" He was asking for pointers from us that might help him as he strives for "success" in a very mid-upper-class-American-way. I kept thinking about that all day. Because really, what had Joy done? What had I done? I was born into a good family who valued education and family and values and all of that. I was read to and played with. I attended schools and found school actually fun. I had family dinners every single night. I was supported as I pursued sports and theatre and music and travel. I was pushed towards academic excellence that helped me get college scholarships and all of that. Basically, I don't feel that I've done very much at all. I do not know much about life in the inner-cities of America. I wish I knew more. Perhaps DeMario will call me and I can learn from him. I realize I have lots of questions.

Coffee by Day, Wine by Night

Indeed, jobs are all up and running, and today is the highlight. Why you ask? Because after four interviews with principals, teachers, and the superintendent, Joy has a teaching job for next year. Believe me, the excitement is high. She's actually going to be teaching fourth grade at Anne Sullivan Elementary School, which is where Joy actually went to school when she was a child. I'm sure they're glad to have hired an alum.

This isn't the only job news, however. Joy is working this summer at Pottery Barn, possibly my favourite home-interiors store, even if it is a little pricey. As you all know, I was hired as a server at Regina's, which is a small family-owned Italian restaurant in down-town Arlington Heights. And yes, there is more. Yesterday I had a second interview and was hired as a barista at Starbucks. Oh yes, the excitement continues to build. Everyone knows that Starbucks is a great company to work for, it's all over the place (in case I ever need a job transfer), and I do love coffee shops (even if Starbucks is a little too corporate for me) and all that they mean (friendships, relaxation, rest, a good book or journal). Plus, every week I get a free pound of coffee. That's pretty dang sweet.

So my new motto is "Coffee by day, wine by night." I'm working on the Italian menu and wine-list and soon will be tasting all the coffees Starbucks has to offer. I couldn't be more delighted with these two jobs and can't wait for the stories I believe they will hold. Here we go Chicago!

Blom and Kelmo

It's weird. On Saturday, Blom and Kelly got married. I know people get married all the time and I've been to enough weddings over the last few years. Siblings, acquaitances, and good friends. But nothing like this wedding. Blom has been one of my best guy friends since freshman year at Taylor when we were on the same floor together. It's because of him that I ever heard of Royal Servants (and therefore, Nepal) and it's largely because of him that I decided I actually did want to be a Christian. Basically, he did his job in making Christ appealing. So over the years we've gone with Drew to New York City and Colorado, have been accountability partners, have talked over engagement stories and wedding plans, have played countless tennis games (I usually kick his butt), and have really just had a pretty fantastic friendship.

The thing that was unique about this wedding, however, was that I'm close to both Blom and Kelly. Ever since their relationship started, I would talk to Kelly on the phone, we'd e-mail or chat online, and she and I have a really great friendship by itself. We've laughed and cried together and the four of us have been on some great double-dates (get ready for the hookah bar this summer baby!).

So they got married. I think it's easier since Joy and I are getting married in six months. We'll still have stuff in common and can still have some great double-dates. But it's still kinda weird, and after the wedding and during the drive home yesterday, I was pretty gloomy. I know it's a celebration and all that, and it really is something I think is pretty dang wonderful, especially for them, but there's still a sense of sadness. I guess I kinda feel like I'm losing two really great friends. On one sense, I know that's not true, but in another sense, maybe it is. The friendships as they were have ceased to exist. Everything will be different when I see them again. Like I said, it makes it easier that I'll be married in six months along with them, but still, for now, I'm both happy and melancholy.

Now they're off on their honeymoon, doing what honeymooners do. I am sure they're laughing and talking and having a grand ole time. Maybe they're talking about their big day, or their home when they get back, or their dreams that they share for their lives together. I hope they do all of those things. I also hope they take a moment and think about all those people who still want to be a part of their lives. I know I'm one of them.

Oregon and Minnesota

This past week has been a busy one. Last Thursday I flew out to Oregon to visit my buddy, Taylor, whom I've mentored since going to Nepal two summers ago. It was a wonderful time together. He's one of the most intelligent high schoolers I've ever met and always had question after question ready. Unfortunately (maybe fortunately), I never had any real conclusive answers.

Today Joy and I are driving to Minneapolis for Blom and Kelly's wedding. I can't believe it. I've pretty much been able to watch their relationship from its beginning. It's not like those weddings when you know one but not the other--I consider them both dear friends. Needless to say, it's going to be another emotional weekend.

In lighter news, I officially have a job at a nice Italian restaurant in the area called Regina's. Come visit.

Buca's Boobs

I spent most of my time today running around filling out various applications and such. Well, we stopped by Buca di Beppo's, and here is a story that is like nothing I've ever seen. Here we go...

Joy and I were just leaving the restaurant, where we were told the manager was unavailable. So we went back to the car and started to leave the parking lot by a side entrance. Now, I should say that Buca's is on a pretty main street in the area. As we were driving out of the parking lot, we looked to our left, and there, a few feet away on a grassy section between two lines of bushes, we saw something we almost didn't believe. Completely visible to us, and also to any cars driving by that might happen to look in that direction, was a middle-aged and somewhat large man and a woman wearing some athletic outfit.

**This is where the story turns PG-13 rated, virging on R, so if you want to stop now, this is your warning.**

You see, this man was kneeling on his knees, had the woman's shirt lifted up to her neck, and he was, believe it or not, sucking on her breasts. Passionately. I couldn't believe it and thankfully Joy confirmed what I had just seen. Well, by the time I realized what was going on, I had entered into another parking lot partially hidden by bushes from these two voyeaurs. So of course Joy and I turned around to drive by again. Well, apparently they noticed the car and also noticed us turning around, so when we drove by staring at them the heat was no longer in action and they were just staring right back.

Nonetheless, this is a story to remember. I love the city. I never saw any of this in Shelby. We laughed and laughed. I have a feeling that when I return to Buca's with my application the manager that comes out is going to be that man I saw on that grassy knoll. I can't wait.

Chicago at Last

Well, the day that's been talked about for many moons has finally come. I am no longer an Ohio resident. I live in Illinois. I am living with quite the terrific family. I know Sean from school of course, but his whole family is just great. Very into the arts (violin lessons were going all day...I wanted to bring back my violin from third grade), very generous ("We'll just plan on you joining us for dinner unless you let us know otherwise"), and there's even a big friendly dog. I love dogs. Almost as much as I love penguins and dolphins and elephants.

My room is pretty much all set. I wanted to get it as organized as possible since in two days I have to pack up for Oregon for six days then get ready for Blom's wedding for another few days. The summer's off and running. Crazy. My room is nestled in the corner of the basement, with comfy carpet, a big armoire, and even a heated comforter for those cold winter nights. Joy and I put together a bookcase and mementos and pictures from Italy and Nepal are everywhere. I love it.

With that being said, I'm exhausted. So now I'm gonna head downstairs and lay down in my new bed. But not before I say goodnight to the dog.

Tennis Champ

Now, I don't want to brag, really, I don't. But I'm going to. You see, I've never been too much of an athlete. Sure, I played a lot when I was a kid, but over the years, I've slacked off. Well, I'm regaining my sports side, and we all know about the Cubs game, Pacers game, and oh yes, that glorious day of skiing in Vail.

Well, last year the Chorale started a new tradition. Since the Chorale people are always staying around to sing in graduation with nothing to do after finals, we decided, of course, to start a tennis championship. Well, last year was amazing. My partner was Hugh Conor Angell, and it was rough, but ended up with the title. 2004 Chorale Tennis Champions.

Well, last night I was informed that the second annual championship was at 9 this morning. Well, already being here for Joy's graduation, I thought I'd just stop by. You know, do an opening serve or something. Well, it worked out for me to play again, and not just play, but be partners with Hugh Conor Angell. We played three rough sets. In the second, we were down 4-1, but came back to win 6-4. Then it was pushing towards a glorious ending, where we once again claimed the title. Oh yes, oh yes. 2005 Chorale Tennis Champions.

Next year Conor will be a senior. You better believe I'll be back for a third victory.

From Shelby to Upland

In two days, Joy will be a college graduate. She took her last final yesterday and is pretty much just sticking around waiting for the diploma. Really, I'm proud of her. She's a pretty unbelievable student, much better than I ever was, and she still made time for fun and friends and all of that that makes college college. (Well, TU doesn't really do the drinking/partying scene, and Joy didn't either, so I guess she did not what makes college college, but that which makes Taylor Taylor.)

Tonight I get off of work at 10 and then I'm driving to Upland. It will be the last time I make this trip from Shelby to Upland, at least for quite a while. Honestly, I've hated having a long-distance relationship this year. Yeah, people say that there are benefits and all of that, which may be true, but I don't really care. I didn't like it one bit. So to make life easier all year, I would make my regular trips to Upland, it seems at least once a month. I bet this year I've driven to Upland about 15 times, three hours each way. I've become rather intimate with US-30. I know where i can spead on 75. I know I know all the exits and know all about the construction currently going on. I know where the cheapest gas is (right when I leave 30 and am about to get on 75) and know where I got pulled over. Actually, I know both of the places I got pulled over. For a long stretch, 30 is just two lanes and you're usually stuck behind some dumb truck. I know I'm getting close to it becoming four lanes again when I pass that one church with the white sign on the right. I also know that I have forty minutes left when I pass the beautiful Catholic church on my left side soon after crossing the Indiana border. I also know exactly where it was that I looked in my side-view mirror and saw my gas cover dangling from the side of the car. I know I smile every time I see the one church called "Happy Corner Church." I think more churches need names like that. Okay, probably not. It might be giving out a deceptive message. I also love the hotel that is straight from an Alfred Hitchcock movie, certainly hasn't been occupied since the last World War, but it still has that "Vacancy"sign barely visible.

I remember always being delighted on the way to Upland, and it always seems twice as long on the way back. This is my last time making this trip this year, and probably for a really long time, and probably the last time all by myself. Sad as it may be, I love Upland, so it's kinda sad that Joy is graduating and I'll no longer have a reason to visit every month. But when she walks across that stage, I also know it means we're both moving to Chicago within the week and that means this long-distance nonsense is over.

This will be a good weekend to be sure. Time with Blom and Kelmo, music practice with Loralee, hanging out with the in-laws. I'll even be spending time with Joy's brother, Matt, another Taylor grad who isn't exactly similar to me. Maybe this will be the weekend we really connect. (Doubtful, but can't a guy hope?) So yes, as I make this journey for the last time, there will be both delight and sadness, joy and sorrow. I am guessing Joy will feel those same things when she packs up her boxes at the Ritz and finishes up four years of college. At least we'll be able to talk over this feeling and emotions in person and not on the phone. Congratulations, class of 2005.

This means I graduated from high school five years ago. I haven't gotten any info about a reunion or anything and certainly won't be in attendance if there is one. I may miss my trips from Shelby to Upland, but I'm pretty sure I won't miss Shelby. Indeed, this is a good thing.

Richard Cory

In the last few years, I've become quite a fan of Simon & Garfunkel. Really, they're amazing. Nothing like the '60's. Not only are the harmonies just perfect, but they're musically genius. Don't get me wrong, I love Black Eyed Peas, but somehow, Simon & Garfunkel are just a few steps ahead. They say the words "synopated time" and you better believe the music behind it is syncopated. Don't even get me going on the polyphonic texture in "Scarborough Fair." Plus, they speak of things that really matter. (Actually, I think that may be an actual lyric from one of their songs...) They question life, truth, love, home. They have a song called "The Sound of Silence." Genius, genius I say!!! So yes, I find them quite fantastic.

This week I've been listening a lot to Simon & Garfunkel, and I really enjoy the song "Richard Cory." It's upbeat, fun, easy to sing along to while I'm driving to work. But as is usual with S&G, the song is a lot more than just what it appears. In this song it's not too hard to see, because the lyrics say it all. Basically, Richard Cory has it all in the eyes of those around him. He's rich, stylish, sexy, and famous. Basically, he's living the American dream. The singer even muses, "Oh, he surely must be happy with everything he's got."

The chorus goes like this:

"But I work in his factory
And I curse the life I'm living
And I curse my poverty
And I wish that I could be,
Oh, I wish that I could be,
Oh, I wish that I could be
Richard Cory."

The ultimate irony occurs when Richard Cory went home one night, and "put a bullet through his head." It seems Richard Cory wasn't all that happy after all. I find that most of us know things like money and fame and beauty won't bring us happiness. I know that I know that, but I still want those things, more than I should. My mind knows it's not all that it's cracked up to me, but my body still desires those things, is pulled towards them.

I have a lot of Richard Cory's in my life. There are so many times that I wish that I could be someone else. It's one of the things I hate the most, because what it is in essence saying is that I'm not content with who I am. I want to be content with who I am, who God made me to be, but there is always someone out there I would rather be. Maybe not the whole person, but some bit or piece. This person is more fun. This person is more funny. This person is more well-read. This person is more insightful. This person is more wise. This person is more loving. This person is more well-liked. This person is better looking. This person doesn't even think about money. This person is more talented. This person, this person.... The list could go on and on.

Many of those things, like vanity and money, are simply dumb. But they're still there. And I think it's okay to desire more wisdom or to want a greater ability to love and love well. But when those things turn into jealousy or self-hatred, I don't think that's a good thing. I often fall into that trap and I never seem to quite learn.

Changing subjects completely, I am only in this world because of my mother, the dear Vickers, the Mothership. Happy 55th birthday, mom. When I told her Happy Birthday this morning, she said, "Fifty-five years young." You go girl. Booyah.

The Deer on I-71

I think I witnessed something pretty scketchy earlier this afternoon. I was driving back home from Columbus, visiting ex-roommate Kevin of the Sea Welty. It was a beautiful hour. I felt energized and rested, and Kelly Clarkson was blaring from the speakers. I pulled off to get gas at the rather low $1.92/gallon, got back on the highway, and then, a few miles later, around exit 140, I witnessed something I'd never seen or imagined before.

We have all seen dead deer as we drive to and fro. It always saddens me and I'm always thankful that I've never actually hit a deer. In my lifetime as a driver, I've hit both a racoon and a possum. There was also a time when I was just a very young driver, when I hit a chipmunk. Now, you may be tempted to laugh here, but please do not, as it is still a rather emotional memory for me. You see, it was a splendid spring day, beautiful and blue, soft and light. Love was in the air. Well, I was driving on the back rounds on my way to Meijer and all of a sudden two chipmunks started to run across the road, certainly in the middle of a game of tag or whatever games two chipmunks in love in spring play. They were "twitterpated" if you will. I tried to brake, but my rear tire got the second chipmunk. I was devastated. I started to shake, and then I started to cry a little bit. My mom was with me and can witness to the truthfulness of all of this. I even turned the car around and when back to the scene to make sure Alvin's girl wasn't suffering. There she was, pathetic and ruined. Darkeness came into that beautiful spring day and death cast a shadow over the land. I remember it vividly.

Anyway, back to today. So yes, we've all seen dead deer along the road, and we always just assume it is someone's job to come and clean up the deer and other dead animals along the road. Today I realized that I had never once actually seen anyone cleaning up these carcasses. Well, at exit 140, I noticed a white truck pulled off the road and then saw two mem scrambling up a bank. And what did I see coming up from the deep grass? You guessed it...Bambi himself. (I don't even want to recall my time of seeing Bambi in the movie theatre. We went for my birthday party when I was just a wee one. Well, needless to say, just to remember the part where Bambi's mother died still gives me shivers. I mourned until the following birthday when we played it safe and had mac and cheese on the porch.) But what alarmed me the most about these two men who had this deer was that they were not putting the deer into the bed of the truck to be taken away and buried properly. Each one of them held onto two legs (much as if they were playing a game and were threatening to throw a friend into a cold pool with all their clothes on) and were dragging the deer away from the road, towards a field. I slowed down to watch what was going on. They dragged the deer behind a tree and simply left it there and walked away.

I don't know about you, but this startled me. This changes what I will think everytime I see a dead deer along the road from now until I die. I wonder if they were doing what they are supposed to do or simply wanted to take the easy route on their job. Either way, I don't like it, not one bit. I suppose even though many of the forests are gone, what Bambi's mom said still holds true:

Bambi: What happened mother? Why did we all run?
Bambi's Mother: Man was in the forest.

I think of Eden. I guess there wasn't death in that place I can't really imagine. But if there was, and if a deer had died, I wonder what Adam would have done. I wonder if there would have been a tear, a little service, maybe Eve would sing a song. I get sad when I see dead animals and I was sad when I saw that deer on I-71 being dragged behind a tree. Thanks for listening.