In the Pines

Ever since landing in the green of Portland, 

my soul has been able to take a breath.

My little summer home peeking through the pines.

Each day,

I wake up surrounded in a blanket of green,

greeted by morning songs of the swallows

as my little home bobs to the rhythm of each wave

gently flowing along the Willamette River.

Living Room view each day, every day.

My mind is emptied and given space for free thought,

silence puts everything to rest.

On evening walks along the river trail,

I look down and see those same shoes that carried me across Spain.

I listen to that familiar rhythm, 

one step in front of the other.

I close my eyes and remember the walk.

Tracks & trail along the river.

To walk is to trust, to transform, to descend into the heart.

The Camino is the same walk here & now.

The Way we go when we follow God,

sometimes blindly to a gathering in St Louis,

quite randomly ushering me to a summer on a houseboat.

Portland home.

"The soul speaks its truth only under quiet inviting, and trustworthy conditions. The soul is like a wild animal - tough, resilient, savvy, self-sufficient, and yet exceedingly shy. If we want to see a wild animal, the last thing we should do is to go crashing through the woods, shouting for the creature to come out. But if we are willing to walk quietly into the woods and sit silently for an hour or two at the base of a tree, the creature we are waiting for may well emerge, and out of the corner of an eye we will catch a glimpse of the precious wildness we seek."

- Parker Palmer :: Let Your Life Speak :: 7 -

:: Portland, summer 2012 ::

Looking forward to the still soul-speaking moments 

that can come only in the spaces of forest and hills.

Peace out Chicago, 

Tomorrow I'm off to Portland.

In Honesty

Graduate student life inevitably entails a high volume of hours spent toting library books and notes and computer cords around Chicago's coffeeshop scene. With the communal table trend, I have often found myself sitting directly next to two people meeting up for an exchange in the form of business or casual conversation or a first/second/married date... And while it appears as though I'm deep in study (to be fair, sometimes I am…), I simultaneously have questions spinning curious webs around my mind directed towards these two neighbor stranger friends. Sometimes it's moms in the neighborhood, which gives glimmers of hope to my city-rooted life to stay in Chicago toting a baby around in a stroller; other times it's business partners "working from home" and taking regular calls outside the shop; it's also been husband and wife, meeting up for coffee or lunch mid-workday… Whatever the situation, it always seems as if bits and pieces of their communication float into my space. It's fun to be an unexpected bystander, a listener, an observer of the way others tick and the process they undergo in their present circumstances.

A thesis proposal in the works... 

And while most days, I gladly assume this role of harmless eavesdropper content to be partaking on the sidelines, today I overheard a conversation in which it was all I could do to hold back my tongue (and concurrently control the urge to scream…) The conversation took place between two friends - dads in the neighborhood meeting up for a morning cup of jo at the local Wheaton Starbucks - they chatted sports and kids, the weather and church… until one man's voice got slow and heavy, and with a sigh of difficulty he surrendered the fact that he was going through a divorce. While this presents the opportunity for a myriad of responses, the one his friend chose was: "Just remember, this is hard right now, but there's a light at the end of the tunnel. It will all be over soon. In a few years, this will be in your past and things will be better."

home office.

The walls of my throat tightened, my heart pounded, my eyes swelled. Do I tell him the hidden non-truth in that statement? The lie of "it will all go away"after the divorce papers are signed feeds the empty notion "my life will be better if…" While I am obviously not in the position to judge the grounds of this man's divorce or provide any such advice to a stranger whatsoever… I do know one thing: divorce doesn't go away. It lingers like a storm cloud ready to burst each holiday, birthday, celebration, funeral, special event… It is there in each return home, around the family dinner table, and tainting even the happiest memories of the past. Divorce is a monster that tears apart families, breaks trust, and brings relational discord.

The Cubicle. Where I have resigned myself to actually get work done...

Maybe it's because I'm in the throws of research on the topic of "divorce" or because of an assignment I just completed on the topic of "parenting," or a counseling class with a recent study of "compassion" or simply because of my own story… But the idea of everything disappearing with time is a facade that promotes a false sense of future happiness. God is certainly Redeemer; He brings beauty to ashes, light to dark, joy to mourning... But he also calls us to lean into the process of suffering and find Him there. There might be a time when the turmoil doesn't feel as present, but the circumstances do not resolve themselves... They play into the future bringing reminders of the past. God uses these low moments of life to teach us something He could never teach us if life coasted at Comfortable. He teaches us that He alone is Emmanuel; He is God with us, in the beauty and in the pain. We were not made to look ahead to the Resolve, or believe a false hope, HE is our very present help in time of trouble; HE alone is our hope: right here, right now.

Blooms of campus remind me of His Promise.

While divorce is a destruction I do not wish on anybody, I pray that God shows up in this stranger coffeeshopper's life so that he doesn't claim to the world's advice of "someday it will go away," rather asks God "be with me here." That is the Redemption He offers as we walk day-by-day by His side so that we do find the fullness of life He promises for those who seek Him.