corner of chicago and ashland

Pennies, face up, are good luck. Slight good luck in our economy, but luck itself is a precious commodity akin to hope. And hope, whether valued at a cent or constructed as a rainbow, is one of only three things that actually remain.

There was one such heads-up, hopeful penny on the corner of Chicago and Ashland where we met Robert. Within an acquaintance of two hours, our time with Robert would challenge some of our limited conceptions about urban homelessness.

Robert and I spotted the penny at the same time, but it was Robert, himself asking for pennies, who forbade me from picking this one up.
“It’s heads up. Good luck. Leave that for somebody else.”
We did, and Robert, Nikki, Casey, Elizabeth, and I walked the two blocks from Robert’s corner to the local coffee shop with WiFi access. We shared drinks, and he shared his sandwich with Casey and Nikki.
Mostly, though, we listened.

Listened to Robert, three months new to Chicago, speak on such varied subjects as the twelve tribes of Israel and the perils of excessive gold teeth. Not at all the type of conversation our preconceived notions would have envisioned.
In special ed since 4th grade, Robert’s ability to be just as conversant as us was humbling. Often, there is an arrogance among formally educated people where condescension colors even sincere kindness.

So four subtly shocked suburban girls sat speechless for a more proper education.

Robert panhandles because he is schizophrenic and hears voices and must deal with people on his own terms which themselves are highly dictated by his medication. Even accompanying four non-menacing white girls to a coffee shop on a sunny Sunday afternoon was unnerving for him. Paranoia and anxiety mark the mentally ill and to ask someone to “trust us and you’ll get dinner” suddenly seems very unfair.

And the alcohol on his breath is no more than what I have smelt on my own friends’ breaths, yet never critiqued their choices.

We figured Robert’s childhood contributed to his situation on the streets, but six years old and raped? A mom who bore him at 14? Best friends gunned down just hours after you saw them? Poor decisions borne of poor conditions.
Robert never made excuses, but retained a dignity that says one shouldn’t have to.

Mozart was one of our final topics and he exited unassumingly with his bags.
He wants a job, but needs an ID.

I have a strong desire to dissect here, and the questions are worthy of discussion…
Why should a stranger trust you enough to go anywhere with you? Where do people with mental or physical impairments go if they have no family? What else can you do if the streets are literally all you have ever known? Where are the second and third chances? Why are people in shelters when so many Christians have spare rooms?
…but internal reflection seemed more befitting our encounter.
Issues have faces, and statistics drink Iced Raspberry Mocha’s and sometimes you just feel as if Jesus would have handled things differently. So you just remain silent.

There is a penny, face up, on the corner of Chicago and Ashland. Robert left it there, and maybe, just maybe, hope remains.




(holly)

afterthoughts on the altar (i am not like my Jesus)

I am not at all like my Jesus.

My worship has been convenient, slight.
Ephemeral and immaterial--a good girl with a limited glory.

No--my Jesus is GLORY.
He stands at the threshold of time ushering it away--He will come. A sweeping return and the storms will cower at His majesty.
Beautiful and terrible to behold.

No--I am not at all like that.
Hiding under the bed, crying at the storm, my distrust weakens my vision and I no longer see that I was fashioned thunder, lightening, and rain.
Glorious, my Jesus WAS and IS and IS TO COME.
The very voice of God calling to one still deciding on her voice.

There are roads and maps and signs and I am too stupid to find the way.

No--I am not like my Jesus.
Opening doors, tipping well, hoping for greatness, yet my deeds condense into a small box labeled self.
Having never really died nor lived.
Lukewarm is the venomous adjective best describing my treachery.
My Jesus went to the people fixed on ripping and shattering and butchering His body and encouraged them “take, eat.”
I just take.
Eat.
Consume.
Devour.
Ravenous, there is good I will not do, but none I will not take.

No--my Jesus loves widely, wildly with hands stained by dirt, tears, blood, and hope.
If I were like my Jesus, I would cup the widow’s head in my hands and say--”tell me your story. Let my heart break with yours.”
And I would find the one every time and forget the rich, easy beauty of the ninety-nine.
My Jesus sees.
And He sees me.
I stand beloved despite my infidelity and adultery. He winks at me with stars and creates for me new colors.
My selfish hands meagerly offer leftovers and litter. Afterthoughts at the altar.
Flesh and divinity, I am too soon the harlot and too much ice to embrace either.

No--I am not like me Jesus.
But He loves me.

He calls this vagabond, princess.
His beloved, baby girl, daughter.
He loves me unfairly, extravagantly.
He sees more in me than my mirror-enslaved eyes can fathom.
He leads me to still waters even as I chase the waterfall.

No.
I am not like my Jesus.
My words do not drip life.
My fragrance does not heal.
My touch is more sandpaper than velvet.
I am so marred.
He is so clean.

But I have been bought at a great price and my limitedness is redeemed.
He is, so I can be.
All my wretchedness enveloped in a new inexplicable beauty.

“When Christ, who is your life, appears,
then you also will appear with Him in glory.”
Colossians 3:4




(holly)

pictures from milwaukee and a quick word

church at holy hill


steeple of church at holy hill



we're leaving again tomorrow for the rest of our trip. we're focusing on the cities of chicago, seattle, and portland so that we can glean and serve with communities and people for longer periods of time, instead of moving quickly from city to city. the others and i don't do well with writing in here, and i think the majority of our communication about the trip will be done in the emails, so this most likely will remain more of a personal notepad and sketchpad of sorts.

i look forward to seeing you all in august.

snapshots

just a few pictures from our trip so far.
for more go to http://flickr.com/photos/treeswillclap
enjoy!

our faithful ride


reba place fellowship


view from a place in evanston


the bean in chicago


view from millenium park


view from the navy pier


the metra


building by the river

we have only just begun

i apologize that we have not yet posted a blog about what we have been experiencing. we still have much to process and discuss, and this blog will surely provide little of what we wish to share.

our first few days in chicago were spent with reba place community in evanston, illinois. we were humbled by their hospitality and humility. while we were there, we were welcomed many times to share meals with the Clearing, one of the most organized and diverse homes within the community. we also shared meals with several different homes within the community, enjoying the knowledge and encouragement of many different reba people. we worshiped at reba place church with the entire fellowship, we conversed with many members of the community about the function of each home and the role of the community within the surrounding neighborhood, we worked in gardens, visited the recyclery, and witnessed and heard of their work to generate social change by actively seeking change and by serving and loving their neighbors. but most importantly, we experienced the incarnate body of Christ.

we left reba place on tuesday and have been staying with a friend of a friend in arlington heights, outside of chicago (thank you, brad). here, we are still experiencing hospitality and the kindness of the body. we will be here until friday. we spent all day in downtown chicago yesterday. i can't even begin to tell you how much we walked. we enjoyed the busyness and vastness of the city, and also the city's quaint familiarity. we all love chicago.

as i said before, holly, casey, and i have a lot to continue to pray about, discuss, and process. our hope is to be able to share that with you as we are able. thank you for your continued prayers, encouragement, and concern.

Nikki

p.s. i had every intention of posting pictures today, but my camera cord is back at jimmy's house, so i'll post them later.

we're in chicago! (evanston, actually)

hello all! i just wanted you guys to know that we arrived in chicago safely on friday night at 2 am.

we have been interacting, working, eating, and speaking with members of the reba place community in chicago. they are wonderfully kind and hospitable people. tomorrow we will be given the official tour and talk, so we will surely have much to ponder and discuss tomorrow. already the trip has given us much to think about and pray about.

we love chicago and we love the city of evanston. it's fantastic. right now we're sitting at a coffee shop in downtown evanston, not far from the lake. the shins, radiohead,and regina spektor were playing earlier. gooooooood.

we hope you all are doing well. we will be posting more soon. we thank you for your prayers.

be the light, be the hands, and be the grace of Christ.

nikki

personal note- i seriously miss you all. i would love if you guys texted or called to say hello, and i will do the same.