Date-iversary the 4th

In the beginning ... there was a girl who lived in a tower in downtown Chicago, and a boy who waited in the lobby of that tower nearly every day. Sometimes twice. They spent so much time together that their hearts filled filled filled with desire until those hearts grew so big that they overlapped! A nice little spot where their hearts partly coincided in time. A space in which to grow. The boy went home one weekend, thought about things, came back and said, "I'm ready if you are." They were holding hands, walking in morning sunlight, and they were official.

That was four years ago today!

Now this is what he loos like:


And this is what I look like:
 

This is where I sometimes daydream we might live one day: 

We like any reason to celebrate so we started with a coffee lunch date yesterday.

I asked Jake, "What have you learned after being in a committed relationship for four years?"
"That it can still be really fun."
And my answer, "To be truly selfless, not a pouting martyr."

I'm happy to report, that overlapping heart space has only grown grown grown.

Where I've Been | Michigan Edition



Whew, friends, I have arrived. I've made it to church two Sundays in a row. And except for a trip to Montana in August, I'm home! Home home home. For what feels like the first time since May.

Well, this past weekend Jake's parents and brother stopped by Chicago for a bit. We ate dinner at the Hopleaf and I was overcome with rustic charm (in the form of smoked ham on rye, and pear wine.) Then we took off for the western beaches of Michigan to see my folks!








(missing one sis)




My parents have both recently moved. It amazes me over and over how many chapters of life our family has seen. Each chapter is blocked in my head, designated by very different locations and seasons. This, I'm happy to say, feels like a really good season. I'd be happy to land here.

PS: I'm so excited to see this one! Have you seen his other films?

Happy Monday, amigos!

I don't have another edition of "Where I've Been" for you because this past weekend both Jake and I were home! Nuts, I know. It was a busy weekend ... Jake had a show, we went to a first birthday pool party, and we spent a great day with our friend's parents in the suburbs! But it was so grounding to be at home. I'm especially thankful for the time Jake and I had together because I think all of our evenings are booked (without each other) this week, and after a camping trip this weekend we'll both be separate ways for two weeks. He'll be in Mississippi and I'll be in Madison, and when we get back there might be some exciting news to report. But that's not until the end of the month.

Well I don't know if you've ever noticed, but I have a whole category for posts about the sun. I love the sun, it totally affects my mood. I notice more of the world when it's sunny outside. We had those awfully hot days here in Chicago and now we're into some brisk, sunny days. And this is my favorite kind of weather. Brisk and sunny.

So I thought I'd share my little summer time driving playlist for you, in honor of the sun.

Hear me now, I would never suggest you have a car in Chicago. I know some people love it, but it's far too expensive and needy if you ask me, and I love reading on the train. But Jake's job more or less requires he have a car (isn't that illegal?) and we're SO thankful for his job. So, here I am, a car owner in the city. The best things about having a car are in the winter time when Jake drops me off at the house and I don't have to find a parking spot with him ... and driving with the windows down on Lake Shore Drive! Oh, beauty. So here you go, this is what I've been bopping to:

 

It was 9 am on a gorgeous Wednesday. The first of June.

Neil Young was rocking the free world on my radio,
as I drove down the gorgeous Lake Shore Drive,
wearing a polka dot dress, and Jolly Rancher Cherry chapstick.

The moment afforded such clarity that only comes when you have the time and space to see the big picture;
a vantage I need so much.

Thank you, God.


PS: Quarters are like gold in Chicago! Between parking and laundry, we're all desperate.

I had the best Valentinesunday with my man!
Charming, silly, profound and prayerful is my Jake.

We got up early for breakfast at Southport Grocery.
A yum place we haven't been to in quite some time.
Mr. Golden sun came out to play and got us giddy.
We got an extra treat afterward at Anne Sather.

Church was a bilingual service, so of course I went nuts.

Later, we ran into a great friend and had impromptu coffee.

It's amazing how small Chicago feels after four years.

When I was a little girl, my mom used to make us sisters a Valentine gift of chocolate and makeup, usually in a bright red paper bag. And my dad always wrote his girls a love letter. Those are my best Valentine memories. Actually, those are some of my best childhood memories. I first learned love in my family, and now I get to make more.

SnoMG.

I'm adoring everyone's snow day tales so much!

Ours began in yellow morning light, husband's work canceled, all of Chicago canceled,
running down the stairs to see the world outside & being amazed at God's abundance.









I did work from home, and in fact had a very productive day.
Which is nice because my anxiety has been through the roof this week.
My evening ended venturing out with darling Ashley.
We landed at the oh so cozy and snazzy Hopleaf bar in Andersonville,
where under a haze of expensive beer, fierce historical banter and gainful employment,
I realized that we indeed are the new breed of yuppie.
There was yellow candle light and pools of yellow street light.

oh, california, why do you have to be so magical?
why did i have to leave you when i was 9,
before the age when i could realize that nowhere is perfect?
because now you remain in my mind,
the place where my childhood memories of perfect days are anchored.

memories of sun, bright yellow and moody gray.
memories of three tiny, redhead sisters who played well together.
california, you've enchanted us,
we've all gone back ... and back ... and back.
but it will never be quite like it was.

photo of my darling babiest sis at the beach in the winter.

A drive into "town" to get ice cream. (above)

One day at camp there was a forest fire. Though the flames were miles away, little white flakes of ash snowed on us. The sun looked old and distant. Everything was glowing, the pictures I took are completely unedited. Until that day, the earth had never looked so creepy to me. (below)

I'm trying really, super, very, tremendously hard to write right now.

But the rainy, honey, sunlight outside is a heartbreaking siren.

This is my last article ... possibly ever?

Probably not, but I can't control the winds of opportunity.

Like any good American, I Googled eyelid spasms.

The internet diagnosis: stress.

What? No. I'm not stressed.

I mean, I get stressed. But overall, I know everything is underway.

I'm the opposite of a procrastinator, I front-load my work.

The worst kind of stress is the kind that makes you think

that a breath of fresh air is a distraction,

or that listening to a person is too time-consuming.

That kind of stress makes you inhuman.

At this hour, I desire to be packing up from a long day at the

beach with my love. At the golden hour when it gets windy

and you have to put a jacket on over your wet swimsuit and hair.

Until my body realizes that I am actually not stressed anymore,

and until I finish this last project,

here I sit, with my eyelid contractions, soaking up the indoor shadows.

Maundy

From the Latin novum mandatum: the new commandment.

On the night he was betrayed, Jesus said,

"A new command I give you:

Love one another.

As I have loved you,

so you must love one another."

John 13:34

My heart is so romanced by the sky and the sun! In these last two weeks, the earth has looked to me like a true, environmental expression of the spiritual state of our faith.

The light is overwhelming, and so is friendship. We've been grave and the light now approaches! It's so divinely beautiful. As the Son rises, the sun over the city does also. The bright light makes me feel light weight.

"But for you who revere my name,

the sun of righteousness will rise

with healing on its wings."

Malachi 4:2

Oh! and how about that sun?

Wednesday was marvelous!
The warmish, humid wind
gave my arms goosebumps
with excitement, chill and
nostalgia. We went to our
bridge. We sat on the edge
and dreamed about the
future. Places, people, what
we saw in five or ten years.

This spring is different
because this summer won't
be a betweener, a bridge
of semesters. It'll be life.
The alleged real world.

In the grand scheme of things,

being 2 hours behind on the schedule you set for yourself is really not that big of a deal.

and hearing a park full of happy screams from kids' running, playing mouths in the moment your el train car opens its doors to the outer world and under the yellow, wonderful sun is a pretty big deal.

but falling up the escalators and receiving a tiny whole in your shin for it isn't.

and having tea with your new but so dear friend really is.

so is radiohead.

and seeing the woman from a previous altercation at the library again is just plain funny.

Simple Things... per season... for Haiti

Do you ever run somewhere, anywhere, just to get your heart beating?
I do, with a silly and feverish grin on my face as I dodge the pedestrians and make it to my destination--1 block away--in record time.

...smooth bed sheets, crystallized eyelashes, soft scarves, birthdays, clouds of heat that meet you at the front door, spiced coffee, crunchy snow, bright winter sun, feeling the bitter wind pass by you but not make you colder, anticipation, going outside without a sweater for the first time, cleansing, umbrellas, open windows, giving in and buying old navy flip flops, fresh mowed lawns, turned over dirt, barbecue, wet grass, the smell of hose water, the taste of hose water, fruit kabobs, sunshine through leaves, sun in the late evening, cricket music, sweat in the creases of your elbows and knees, loud and smokey jam-packed festivals, settling down, ordering books, bright leaves on dark wood, thick tights and skirts, cheap spiral notebooks, the smell of pencil shavings...

(This is my list
of simple things
that, thanks to
Soul Aperture,
will donate $1 to
Doctors Without
Borders in Haiti.)

Burst

My heart is going to explode

in the sight of this.

Beauty, true beauty.

And love beyond means.

It may be the gallons of sunlight,

it may be family and pictures.

Pictures, smiles, hearts, but no.

I refuse to think it is only these.

It is not only the light, but

my God, the light!

It is not only soft kisses and

windows sweating with steam.

It is the truth in knowing, the

inarguable faith that these

are real. The messengers of

light, they are real, outside of

their perceived presence.

My blood remembers and knows,

beauty is real and it is here.

Or, I may implode.

Honeymoon (#2) weekend!

Another honeymoon weekend!

And unfortunately no pictures ...

which is extra sad because we had

tiramisu TWICE!

Looks like the first Tiramissuers

will have to wait.

Here is our weekend in words.

Saturday started off like this.

After the morning we borrowed

a friend's car and returned a

bookshelf to Target.

We had a blast shopping and day-dreaming

about the holidays together and

all of the holidays to come.

Love is so deep, my friends, and I

can tell my toes are just at the edge.

Last night we celebrated our

half-month anniversary!

Our most favorite restaurant was

very busy so we ate at the bar and that

was a first. I loved my guy so much

and he charmed me like crazy, that

was not a first.

Then we went to a nice gathering

of some friends, old and new. And

thankfully made it home safe.

Shouldn't we be more thankful for

all of the times we make it home safe?

...

And Sunday, the sabbath.

I felt very called to visit a Loyola chapel

on the lake, where Jake and I once went

for a taizé prayer service about a week

or two into dating. I'm so thankful

for sweet memories of a love beginning.

My heart was not in the right

place for all of the service, but

I did settle in and really worship

eventually. The Loyola campus

is breathtaking, it was

severely glorious this morning,

in the intense yellow sun and

with a thin haze above the grass.

Jake and I enjoyed looking at

the lake while we prayed about

a disagreement we had.

Love is groundbreaking.

This afternoon our good friends

took us to lunch as a wedding gift,

one of them happened to be our

wedding photographer. So look

at what I have now ...

This morning, it washed over me.
Through bleary vision of morning eyes
came to me the sight of yellow sun
and a husband with soft curls.
Like at the altar, when I first heard
him say he would take me as his wife.
It washed over me.

Ennui

I have slight ennui today.

Come back bright fall sun and vibrant blue sky, red orange yellow leaves.

"This is what the LORD says to the house of Israel,
'Seek me and Live.' "

Amos5:4

Walking in Mexico

Increasingly hotter as my days went on,

I leaped under shadows

shadow to shadow to escape.

Usually heavy on my heels were the hills

as I walked all day, up and down.

Out of school at 2 pm, midday sun, my

favorite shade of gold.

Usually sorry if I had brought my computer,

usually out of breath by the time I got on the bus.

5 pesos, a half peso for change,

stand where there's room, sit if I could.

Talk quietly because I talk english,

sit next to Kate

as our legs bake in the sun,

burn onto the plastic seat.

I never want to forget

walking in Mexico.

The sun a bit lower,

heading out with a fully belly.

Usually singing,

usually obsessing over how many

steps it will be until that next

flowered bush; counting the cement

walls; smiling at the neighbors;

smiling in a way that might tell them

I can speak their language.

Smiling a little differently at the other

foreigners.

Pass the schools, the corner stores,

the woman with her daily garage & meal sale,

pass the shelf of natural herbs, the rotisseria,

the comida corrido.

Usually only a little out of breath on the bus.

The sun gone now,

my feet are filthy,

I've washed them twice in the sink.

My soles are worn,

I'm sticky but the breeze is chill.

Everything is so much darker.

Light from street posts don't seem to

pool very far around their selves.

I've seen so many things, I'm so worn out,

I have to wake up in a few hours,

is it still safe to walk home?

Then that one time we got lost.

In my own neighborhood.

And ended up outside our world,

another planet you admitted.

But I remembered the tracks,

followed the crumbs in my brain.

I got us home.

I never want to forget walking in Mexico.

Freely

"Freely you have received, freely give."

"Gratuitamente han recibio este poder;

ejérzanlo, pues, gratuitamente."

Mateo 10:8

What a free morning I've had.

Walked free, breathed free, worshiped free.

Took in the sounds, the sun, the flowers, all free.

Wrapped in the grace of God, freely,

because He knew I needed it.

And oh, how I needed it.

Now I pray that I might freely give the joy

which I have freely received this morning.

Praise God for His free gifts, that we might not be

so proud as to believe we did anything to deserve them.

Mornings Like This

I leaned over the metallic sink,

a slimy mango heart in my hands and on my cheeks.

The sweetness seeping into my senses,

the awareness that this grew so close, in the same air I breathe.

The teachers are striking and at this point and

the next sight of school isn't until June.

So here he is, my morning friend, poking his head

through the window, a broomstick blooming beside him.

A few pesos in the meantime, she passes to him

while telling me she has secrets to imbed in my youth.

I lean at my hips a little more, pressed against the counter

to save every drop of mango from the sink floor.

This fruit grew and died here, in the same earth in walk,

among the thick, wonted song of our bird neighbors,

under the same golden sun on my eyelashes, which swims to the middle of the sky.

I always want to remember mornings like this.