old friends...

hey this is a blog post devoted to connecting with an old friend. I saw that "Mike" wrote a reply to my last blog. If you're reading this, which Mike is this...Mike Baumann a.k.a. haus, Dean Mike, or Mikey Borely....I dought it's the last, but I'd like to connect with whichever Mike that was that left the reply.
You're all good mikes.
more later...

better...

for teen camp this year, we've been diving into the book of Hebrews (not an easy book to understand let me say) and thinking about our theme "better."

"For the law made nothing perfect, and now a better hope has taken it's place. And that is how we draw near to God." -Hebrews 7:19

If something is better, it has to be compared to something else. I was thinking about this as I was reading a story in John 4, about a Samaritan woman. In it, it speaks of a woman in the first century who, in my opinion, is trapped. She is trapped because she is a woman, and in that culture, at that time, women were not treated with much dignity... She is also a promiscuous woman, having many husbands, giving away of herself to many yet lacking one who can satisfy her need for security. She has a daily ritual of going to the water well to fetch water right in the heat of the day. This is her duty. This is her life...

One day, as she is going to do her daily task of getting well water, she finds a man sitting there at the well. This is where our story picks up...

She notices that he's an out-of-towner...not one of her own kind. She was hoping that she could just get her water, and leave quickly without having any sort of confrontation with the man. Much to her surprise, the man spoke to her. "Please give me a drink," he says. The woman replies "why are you speaking to me, can't you see the difference between us...you don't talk to people like me, and yet you are asking me for a drink." Then the man turned things personal and made a bold claim, "if you knew who I am, and the gift I have for you, you would as me for a drink, because I have living water." Thinking the man was talking about the well the woman replied, "you don't even have a bucket or rope, look how deep this well is...where would you get this 'living water' you speak of... besides, this well was built by Jacob, (arrogantly) yeah, maybe you've heard of him, Jacob, the great ancestor of ours. Jacob dug, drank, distributed, and delighted in this water, how can you have better than this?" Again, the man calmly made a bold statement..."People become thirsty again after drinking this water...but the water I have, you drink it, and it takes away your thirst." He caught her attention now, "please! give me some of that water," the woman replied.

For the woman, the thought of a quenched thirst, the thought of leaving the laborious chore of coming to the well in the heat of the day everyday enthralled her. She wanted what was better.


After continuing their rich conversation, the woman eventually realizes that what she really wants, what she really needs, is this mysterious man who seemed to find her. She left her water jar at the well, signifying she had traded in what she thought would satisfy her for this offered living water, for what was better. She juxtaposed what she had, and what the man offered, and came to the conclusion that what he had was better... She, excitedly, rushed to find some people to share in her joy, and said, "Come! meet the person who told me everything I ever did!" Deep within her, her soul cried out with joy because she had met someone who knew her better than herself. Not only that, but she had met someone who released her from her prison of dissatisfaction. She met the living water, better life, better hope, better promise, and better choice.

"now a better hope has taken its place. And that is how we draw near to God."

Long weekend in the city...

While most people were heading out of the city to various wilderness vacation destinations, I stayed. I remained in the city mostly because I had obligations here in the form of work, but it didn't turn out to be a bad thing. Actually on the contrary, it was one of the better long weekends I can remember.

See, as my buddy Clayton Nelson says, "I love being in the city on the long weekends, because no body is here." (that's probably not an exact quote, but the idea)...he says he likes the fact that the coffee shops aren't busy, that the traffic isn't as bad...it feels sort of like you're actually able to slow down even though you are still in the concrete jungle.

What I liked about this weekend was the fact that going for ice cream, or going to a movie, or just napping half the afternoon away was not such an imposition... What a freeing feeling. For example, today, I went to church then went to have lunch with Dana and some other friends at the Old Spaghetti Factory at the forks (we took our time there, no rush right)...then after that, Dana and I went to her parents house for about 5 hours, just chilled, played some boggle and had a good meal. What a beautiful thing it is to forget about schedules and deadlines and all the things we do to become more free but (mainly) only leaves us more constricted. It's nice to drop those things and to just be. It's nice to just do what you like, do what you want to do for a day.

So, next time you think you are stuck in the city for a long weekend...think again, you're not stuck, you can actually be quite free.

another day, another latte...

perhaps just past 6am on a Saturday morning is not the best time to be blogging, but here I am trying to make sense of life already at the early stages of the day... (by making sense of life, I mean wondering where my work shoes are) Yes I'm heading off to make sure addicts have their fix in the form of coffee's, latte's, and frappuccino's. One of the things I like about working on Saturdays is the fact that most people that come in on this day always come in on this day...you get to know the folks a little bit, beyond just another latte for the customer. It feels real good to have someone come in, recognize you, and even call you by name as if they are happy you are working that day, serving them.

we'll see how this day goes, maybe there'll be some crazy event that happens and I'll have some fantastic thing to write about. or maybe, it'll just be another day, another latte...

An old franciscan once said...

If you feel the call of the spirit, then be holy with all your soul, with all your heart, and with all your strength. If, however, because of human weakness, you cannot be holy, then be perfect with all your soul, with all your heart, and with all your strength.

But if you cannot be perfect because of the vanity of your life, then be good with all your soul...Yet, if you cannot be good because of the trickery of the Evil One, then be wise with all your soul...

If, in the end, you can neither be holy, nor perfect, nor good, nor wise because of the weight of your sins, then carry this weight before God and surrender your life to his divine mercy...

If you do this, without bitterness, with all humility, and with a joyous spirit due to the tenderness of a God who loves the sinful and ungrateful, then you will begin to feel what it is to be wise, you will learn what it is to be good, you will slowly aspire to be perfect, and finally you will long to be holy.

mondays...

Because I work at two different places right now (Starbucks and Faith Covenant Church), the schedules are such that I work 6 days a week...I don't work, technically, more than 40-45 hours a week between the two, but I end up working tuesday to sunday at either place.

This makes monday my only day off.

As I get older, and as I start to be more confident in what I like, I'm realizing the value of doing what I like on my day off. For example, I used to think I'd have to do all the little detail things, the errands and what not on my day off in order to make it through the rest of the week. Yesterday, I did only what I liked. I woke up, mulled around the house a few minutes, then took a walk to the Grant Park Mall. I love that walk, and I love that mall, because they are both quiet for me. In the mall there is a McNally Robinson's, so I usually go there to read or look at books. Yesterday I was feeling the pressure to read and get caught up on my reading...but then I realized, no I just want to browse through the books and just look around...I just want to sit in the Prairie Ink Restaurant and have a nice lunch, and not worry about how much time I'm spending in there. So I did.

It was splendid.

There is real wisdom, I think, in taking care of yourself...I know that sounds elementary and simplistic, but I wonder how much we actually do that.

I guess for most people mondays are killer. But for me...they are a lifesaver.

our very own sauna...

I posted a while back about how this house (in the summertime) is a heat box, that you lose weight just living here. Well yesterday night surpassed anything I'd experienced at 690 Jackson Avenue.

Holy moley it was a suana in here yesterday, especially yesterday night. No matter how many windows we opened, we simply could not cool off the place last night. Bruce, Matt, and myself live in the upstairs, in the tower, up in the heavens, or as Clayton puts it, "the upside down hell" in the summertime. It's brutal.

It's an awful feeling being in bed, having no covers, wearing only some gotch and still feeling as though you're in your very own sauna, which normally I suppose would be a posh thing to have, but in this case it sucks.

It's time to bring out my industrial heat killing, fast air blowing, machine I affectionately call "fan-zilla."

Time to cool off.