I think this is my upstairs neighbor

PLEASE, PLEASE STOP JUMPING OR THUMPING OR WHATEVER IT IS THAT YOU'RE DOING.

Thanks.

Our Newest Challenge

We can't claim the name Hyde Park HEROES if we don't awesomely take on challenges, right? RIGHT! So our newest self-inflicted challenge? Living on a budget.

I know, I've written about budgets before. Multiple times, actually. But now we're taking it to a whole new level. Not just "track what you spend" but "take out only a certain amount of cash every 2 weeks and only use that." And yes, there's this stuff called "cash" and "coins" that are not made out of plastic, are considered legal tender and have pictures of dead white guys on them. It's the wave of the future, I tell ya! Who comes up with this stuff?!

So the plan now is to see how well we can do with this set amount of cash. It means actually thinking before plopping down a couple hundred for new clothes (actually, I can't remember the last time I did that) or having multiple dinners out. And we're not doing this because we're dangerously in debt or because we think credit cards are completely evil- though they're most definitely NOT your friends. We're doing it because, as I've said before, we believe that how we spend our money matters. Consciously choosing to take only a certain amount out and using only that means thinking more seriously about where it's going. It means building in, even if just for another second or two, a pause and a reflection. "Is this what I want to spend my money on? How does it reflect what I support and believe?"

It's most certainly not going to be easy. It's not a lot of money. And I do quite enjoy spending money on non-necessities (this is not to say we are cutting all non-necessities, but we will be spending less on them). It's a challenge that we believe will make us live more responsibly and will make us better stewards of what's entrusted to us. Let's see what happens.

Nine Months Later

June 5th will mark my 9 month anniversary at Breakthrough. And as I’ve written before, it’s hard to imagine that in this transition to Chicago, the Lord would make clear to me His plans to involve me in the work He is doing in urban America. I am more certain of this calling than ever before, though I can only dream of how it will manifest itself in the months and years to come.

At some point, if you’re a thinking, feeling human being, you get to the point where questions of inequality, faith, power, racial justice and mercy begin to haunt your waking and your sleeping. Why is it like this? And, maybe even more importantly, What am I called to do about it? Government programs or pulling one’s self up by one’s own boot straps or just trying harder or sending more money…God, how I wish the answers were that easy!

I can’t help but think that the Lord is deeply, deeply saddened by His children’s unwillingness- or maybe just oblivion- to His very clear calling to love our neighbors as ourselves. He has asked- commanded, really- us to love the “least of these,” not because they are a project to be fixed but because, in serving others, we reflect the grace and mercy of Christ and, in turn, learn something more about who God is. In the process, He transforms us, too, as we’re all in need of a Savior. I am certain God is encouraged by the mentors, the foster parents, the people praying, the tutors, the people sharing meals with their neighbors who don't look like them. But how many of us does that really, truly include? What would it look like in our every day lives to live out God’s calling to love our cities? Would we pray more? Would we give more? Would we serve more?

Maybe we don’t “do” because we don’t know exactly what to do. Maybe we’re uncomfortable leaving our safely-guarded homes, or we don’t feel like we have anything to give. Or maybe we want to fix things, but don’t know what the answer is, so don’t want to try. Or maybe we’re so consumed with ourselves that we don’t see anything outside of us. Or maybe we have our own misconceptions to get over.

I wish I could tell you what the answer is. I wish that right here on Hyde Park Heroes I could say “do xxx and poverty will decrease, racial injustices will stop, and we’ll all live as one big happy family.” The reality is that this side of heaven, I don’t actually believe it’s possible. And yet…we’re still called to do something. I can't tell you exactly what that something is. Realistically, it will look different for each of us. Some will feel called to vocationally serve, as I do. Some will be called to give. Some will be called to volunteer. The point is that inaction is not acceptable.

I would suggest you start here: down on your knees, asking God how you might love as He loved, serve as He served. Pray that He would be at work and use you in that work. Search the Scriptures to know and believe what God is saying. Read books about this work (I list a few suggestions below). Seek out people who are doing this good work. Step out in faith. Oblivion is no longer an excuse.

I long for the day when there is a holy city, where there is no more weeping, no more pain and no more injustice. It’s not going to be here, and to believe that it can be is foolishness, as long as people are imperfect. And yet every day Christians around the world pray that thy kingdom come, thy will be done, on earth as it is in heaven.

What would it look like for you to be a part of God’s kingdom coming in urban America?

Book Suggestions

"Truth and Social Reform" (Vishal Mangalwadi)

"When Helping Hurts" (Steve Corbett & Brian Fikkert)

"Theirs is the Kingdom" (Bob Lupton)

many, many more!

They're Not Mine

When I was little, I used to travel with my mom to a women's Bible study called BSF (Bible Study Fellowship, I think.) I don't remember exactly where it was, but I do remember the fun things my friend Rachel, Dan and I used to do while our moms studied the word; things like tracing our bodies on big, white butcher paper and making fun kids crafts. I don't remember much about what we learned or even (beyond the butcher paper) what we did. But I know that the Lord was present, that we were learning and that we- at a very early age- were a part of a community of believers.

If I don't remember what we, the kids, did, I certainly have no clue what our moms did. But before I left for India in the summer of 2004, my mom shared with me one of the things she was told one of the first times she attended BSF.

Her leader challenged the class- mostly young moms- to pray that the Lord would remind them that their children were not theirs. Are you kidding me? my mom thought. This is my baby, my little girl. MINE.

And yet, even with those feelings deep in her heart, I think my mom began to pray that she would believe in the Lord's goodness and faithfulness. That she would remember that- above all else- I was the Lord's, not hers. That she would do me harm if she kept me from doing all that the Lord would call me to in order to protect me or, worse yet, keep me for herself.

And so, in 2004, probably with deep worry (that she bravely did not show me) my mom and dad let me go off to India for six months pretty much by myself. It is because she knew that this was what the Lord was calling me to that she was able to let go. It was probably this same spirit that led my parents, again, to let me go off to DC without a job, without too many friends and without a place to live. It is again, this conviction, that strengthens them when I tell them about the shooting that happened around the corner from my workplace, or M and my deep desire to live a messy, urban life in a "dangerous city."

The greatest gift my parents ever gave me was to trust in the faithfulness of the Lord and His good plans for my life. They could have orchestrated it (or continued to pay for it :) They could have demanded alarm systems, "safe places" and living down the street from them in their safe suburban neighborhood. They could have held on tightly, even as the Lord said "No, she is mine."

I hope one day, when M and I have children, that I can draw upon the example of my mother as I, too, learn that even as I birth and bring up these children, they are not mine. That the greatest gift I can give them isn't to protect them or hold too tightly to them, but, rather, with assuredness to say "they are Yours."

Happy Mother's Day.

In European News...

In case you bought into the bit that all Brits are stodgy, I point you to this.

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Official_Monster_Raving_Loony_Party

Oh yes, the Raving Loony Party. I think the States might have a few politicians who are unofficial members of that party, too...

Something BIG

On Saturday, May 15th, I'll spend my day with about a thousand other Chi-towners out in the neighborhood of East Garfield Park. Why? For this.

When I Grow Up from Breakthrough Urban Ministries on Vimeo.

Friends, family and neighbors will gather to officially kick off our Breakthrough Dream BIG campaign, as we work to create a place where families can come together in community and where community can come together as family.

It is, in fact, a BIG dream. In East Garfield Park, less than 40% of all youth graduate from high school. It's easier to become a drug dealer than a doctor. There's disinvestment, empty lots and hurting hearts.

And yet.

Nearly 100 kids arrive at the door of Breakthrough after every school day ready to- wait for it- learn more. Men and women in the interim-housing program open the Word together and study what it has to say. Every month, nearly 800 families in the East Garfield Park neighborhood alone take part in Breakthrough's "client choice" Fresh Market.

God is at work here.

And that's why I believe in this BIG dream. Raising 15 million in a shaky economy isn't easy or- to be honest- fun. But then, when you're certain that the Lord is in something, what's easy and fun don't exactly matter. Because the truth is that God is BIG. And He promises us that He will accomplish His good works, when we submit to His leading.

Don't misunderstand. Plenty of youth have and will slip through the cracks and end up pregnant, alone or bouncing from house to house. Men and women will leave the interim-housing program, only to find themselves homeless and jobless again a year, or two, or three later. I don't pretend to begin to understand why exactly this is: I think it's a mix of broken systems, broken individuals, broken programs and a broken understanding of what it means to love our neighbors as ourselves.

And yet.

We're still called to Dream BIG. To work- FIGHT, even- for the things of the Lord: love, redemption, community, justice, peace and transformation. I am so blessed to be a part of an organization that fights for these things.

So I challenge you to Dream BIG with me. To believe in a God who accomplishes great things. Who has something to say to us about how to love our neighbor. Who cares about poverty, disinvestment and justice. Who longs for His children to be in a place of deep love and knowledge of Him. Who is doing BIG things here in East Garfield Park.

To learn more about the Dream BIG campaign, visit www.breakthrough.org/dreambig