I seriously want to know

... why do we pray?

Are we really changing God's mind, or would He
have always done the same thing anyway?

There are specific stories in the Bible, our history,

where it looks like we can really change God's

mind--like those conversations between

Abraham and God, and definitely in all of those

miracles Jesus did in response to a person's request.

But should we really ask God to do something
that he might not have otherwise done?

The only thing I understand is that God wants us

to participate and be involved in His work. For

that reason, I am sure He finds joy when we choose

to pray, because we're engaging Him.

I just don't know about all of this.

I believe prayer changes things, it does matter.
Prayer mostly changes us.

dreamy

I have great news to report. Last week was wonderful, wonderful. Nearly six weeks ago, I developed a nasty, stress-induced tense jaw. And that, I believe, produced large swollen lymph nodes at both of my ear lobes. I've never had anything like it! But lately, all of those life-giving afternoons and trips to the bookstore (and finally picking my book up at the library) forced the lymph nodes down and I'm really relieved!

Thursday morning in particular was so dreamy. I got to sleep in a little and enjoy my coffee slowly in my pajamas while reading the paper with all of our windows open. I also got to watch and admire Jake's smarts as he worked a little from home. It was a balmy, glorious, bright, long morning! I want to bottle it up and save it forever. (Speaking of bottles, note the bubbles forming a heart in our water jar.)

I bought a mop later on Thursday and had so much fun walking with it to work. So many people smiled at me with the knowing look we car-less, urbanites share. Normally, catching anyone's attention makes me nervous, but in the city I have no qualms about doing anything goofy because I'm just another body on the sidewalk. So I took my own picture to send to Jake because I didn't care if anyone thought I was ridiculous or vain. Then I noticed someone behind the windows watching me take my own picture. Incredibly comedic.

Be careful with each other

This is an open letter to the world; and to all of my dear friends in their many relationships, romantic, business even, and friendships; this is also a letter to myself,

Please. Take care of each other.

Be careful with those you know, with the souls you love.

The truth is, those with whom you are closest are the ones you have the strongest ability to hurt.

In the shower last night, with my palm to my brow, amid shampoo and squinted eyes, that thought rattled through my body. I wish it weren't true. Nature should not allow us to do this to each other. But it makes sense, because the best things are the things most at stake.

For example, with Jake and I, it comes down to communication. Because it's what we do best. More often than not, we deeply understand each other, we know each other's inner-workings. If we communicate something in a way that does not reflect good character, that's where it happens. That's where, even when we understand why one of us said something, we are upset with the way they said it. Because we know we can do better, individually and in unity.

(I'm trying to be candid because I am still sorting these thoughts and because everyone says marriage is hard but they are so vague about it.)

This also means that those closest to you have the most pointed ability to hurt you. In close range, a fumble can be fatal.

Of course, there is forgiveness and grace and love and the fact that you want things to turn out fine. But sometimes you won't respond so well.

You will always have those selfish flares because you are human and you make defenses.

Just please, please don't let those defenses confine you or make you proud. Please, give your emotions their worth, listen to yourself and then go take care of things.

I cherish so many of those people out in the world and I really want them to not hurt. I want all of the people who have sat next to me and shared their lives and their stories to be loved intimately.

You, my friends, are close to people.

You have the surpassing ability to take care of them.

Isn't that wonderful?

Ode to a courtyard relationship

Good morning! This is exactly how close my neighbors are. If I stick my head out the window and to the right, I can quickly see the street, trees, grass, other forms of life. But this is my direct view to the outside, no zoom.

From here I can watch the landlord repair a floor, see who is moving in, hear each alarm clock go off in the morning and even the movement of a vague visage showering catches my eye. Sometimes I feel like we don't even live across the courtyard but that we live in one house, and we all get ready together in the morning.

The best part is that because everyone is afraid of being watched (or perhaps afraid of being caught watching) they all close their blinds. This means we get to keep our blinds pulled straight to the top and all the way open!

Filling the hours between class on Tuesdays is a joy. Today I scored the much sought-after leather chair in Barnes & Noble. I read for quite a while. Then I took a bus to Trader Joe's and meandered. I was that person, trying not to get in anyone's way, but still intentionally moving slow, because the abundance of produce comforts me. I walked in the sun, enjoyed the company of the river and its bridges, the Medinah Temple and the used book store. These are the things that catch my eye when I walk because I have a relationship with them. My reflection in a black window caught my attention, I turned back to see the walking traffic light, breathed deeply and smiled. I thought, "This is my Chicago."

* I realize how individualistic this sounds. I'm just struck by how personal such a big city can become.