In the Bleak Midwinter

Ok, it's not quite "midwinter" yet.  Is it even winter yet?  God, please, say it is.  Because I'm already cold and grumpy.  In a loving, happy sort of way, of course.

Things have been really crazy lately, due to my role in the Breakthrough Christmas Store (it's not too late to donate new toys and gifts for parents to purchase at a discounted rate!) and M's finals (which he ROCKED by the way!  Or at least has rocked the two he's taken at this point- one law class and one policy class).  But we've still made an effort to get out of the apartment and enjoy the beauty of the season.

First stop, the University of Chicago Harper Library (please note: there are not actually any books here.  Apparently there were at some point.)  I like to sit here and just stare.  Come to think of it, that might freak people out who are there studying...especially since I usually have a goofy grin on my face as I'm sitting.

M's enthusiasm is somewhat less than mine.  And by "somewhat less" I mean that he doesn't bat an eye.  Chalk it up to being surrounded by the beauty of the campus on a daily basis.  I, however, just FEEL smarter sitting here.  Smrtuhr.  That's me.

Also, it sort of reminds me of Harry Potter and/or Oxford, which both make me happy.  Sigh.

Then, since you know M is German and all, we have to stop by the Christkindlmarket.

It's the largest German Christmas market outside of Germany apparently.  And they sell authentic German Christmas stuff at authentic (read: outrageous) European prices!  Yesss!!  It's also a great place to have a reindeer propose to you, as one of our Breakthrough interns, Rae, found out.  (They're writing about them all over the world, y'all! Seriously, google it.  Oh and watch the video on YouTube.  I like the homeless lady at the end.)

And when we're tired of walking around, it's always nice to come back to the apartment and relax.

This afternoon, I made some wonderful granola (healthy) and some of my favorite cookies covered in sprinkles (not so healthy).  Does anyone else remember eating these cookies as a child?  They always remind me of being a kid.  Later, as the next winter storm hits tonight, we'll have homemade vegetable soup with bread and prosciutto on the side.  Ah, the life.

So maybe it's not such a bleak time of the year after all.  Beautiful buildings, yummy food and fun markets make the snow much more bearable.  Oh, and then of course there's moments, as you sit in the holiday traffic, when you see gems like this...

Merry Midwinter!

It's a Pierce, Buchanan, Lincoln, Johnson Christmas

When I was in high school, I took AP American History where, in an all-night study session for the big test, I memorized the names of all the presidents to the tune of Hark the Herald Angels Sing.

Many times since then, I've impressed people with this stupid human trick and thoroughly amazed and enlightened them, no doubt.  And if this isn't a reason to invite me to your holiday party- I can do Festivus, Christmas, Kwanzaa or Hanakkuh/Chanukkah/Hawnickuh- I don't know what is.  Granted, I've had to add another Bush and an Obama, but it's relatively easy if you just smash everyone past Carter into one breath.  (Please don't shoot me for that comment, presidential historians.) And come on, it IS pretty cool when you think about it.

That is, until "Christmas music on the radio" season comes along.  And oh, friends, it's already come along.  In fact, it came along about a day or two after Halloween.

And when it does, all of a sudden, when the beautiful Christmas song Hark the Herald Angels Sing begins to play, I can't help but think about Millard Fillmore and Rutherford B Hayes.  And let's be honest.  They don't exactly inspire a lot of holiday cheer.

This face doesn't exactly say, 'Merry Christmas'...

Santa's younger cousin, perhaps?

Washington, Adams, Jef-fer-son, glory to the new born king!

Thankfully I didn't memorize all the members of the Supreme Court to Frosty the Snowman.

So that's what they mean when they say "quilted"

I just don't even know what to say, except, every time I enter the bathroom at our church here in Hyde Park, this is what I see.  And so I'm finally sharing it with you.  (Yes, this is now the second time I've taken a picture in a bathroom.)

Marvel at its beauty, friends.

And without further ado, I bring you "Quilted Midwestern"

(Not to be picky or anything, but for some reason it annoys me that it's out of order.  I'm just saying.  Unless the person between square one and two used a lot of...well...you know...)

My Thoughts on the Matter

I might as well resign myself to the fact that 90% of my posts these days have to do with what I spend the majority of my day doing.  Lucky you.  Because you were getting tired of hearing about wine corks and rainbows, weren't you?   You can really only take so many rainbows.

Having only officially worked in "urban development" for a little over a year, people still think it's appropriate to ask me what I think "the answer" is.  I usually say, "Choose B or C, they're the most common answer."

Hardy har har.  Not really.  Seriously.

Americans- especially Christians- want to know what the answer is to urban poverty.  They want to know what to do, what to fix and how to move forward.  "If we just had better schools, we could fix the problem of urban underdevelopment."  "If we just had more men present in their children's lives, we wouldn't be sending so many kids to jail."  "If there were well designed, low-priced housing units, we wouldn't have the gang problem that we have."  "If only there wasn't so much disparity in our justice system, whether that be sentencing terms, the way we handle different drug charges or the relationship between police and individuals in inner city America."  "If only there was affordable healthcare."  "If only people would just get jobs."

Yes.  The answer is yes.

And yet so much more.  The truth of poverty is that it's not a simple fix, and we do a great disservice to the reality of humanity when we think it is.  It would be so much easier if the answer fit into three simple steps, or lined up with one political party platform or another, or didn't require us to think seriously about our own attitudes and sins, both individual and corporate.  We would rather change the educational system than actually extend ourselves on behalf of the poor.  We would rather tell men to man up and be with their families than live out our lives beside those who are struggling.  We would rather believe that we have all the answers than listen to those who have so much to give, so many assets, in their own development.

Don't get me wrong.  Our country desperately needs power players to lobby on behalf of more equity in funding for schools, lower student to teacher ratios and improvement in classroom standards.  We need investment bankers who will consider how to provide housing with equity, without over-gentrifying- and pushing out- communities.  We need programs like Put Illinois to Work that help place individuals in jobs, learn skills and hopefully become more employable.  We need churches that will support Mom and Me programs or healthy mentoring relationships for young urban men.  We need to support those who are doing all these things with our prayers, our finances and our time.  And we need to take the time  to acquire wisdom, to better understand what's really going on in urban America.

But most importantly, we need to do all of these things- and more- with dignity, not to solve a problem, but to truly love our neighbors as ourselves.

That's why I love Breakthrough- that in everything we do, we are trying so desperately to do it with dignity and respect, recognizing an individual's gifts and talents, and extending ourselves- and our network- on their behalf.  We fail sometimes.  But as we fail, we learn, and as we learn we grow into better servants.  Hopefully better servants that will be a part of the kingdom of God coming on earth as it is in heaven.
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If you're still reading, 1) I'm impressed and 2) you might be interested in learning more about the many faces- and facets- of urban poverty.  I've blogged before about reading suggestions, but want to add a couple more books to your reading list.

One- which I'm probably partial to- is Breakthrough's Executive Director's book The Invisible.  If you want to read the story of a woman following God's call on her life- and what you can do, too- read this book.  Another, suggested to me by another coworker, is Code of the Street, written by Elijah Anderson, a professor of Sociology at Yale (or at least he was when he wrote the book).  A third, Restoring At-Risk Communities by John Perkins (read ANYTHING by Mr. Perkins!) has more "practical ideas" and serves as the "official handbook of the Christian Community Development Association."  If you're a Tim Keller liker, check out Ministries of Mercy: The Call of the Jericho Road.

So What Do You Do?

People- especially those not from Chicago- often ask me what exactly Breakthrough does.  It's not a simple question, and there's certainly not a simple answer.  But if you happen to be one of the people wondering, here are three videos that will tell you more.


Children & Family Services from Breakthrough Urban Ministries on Vimeo.



Breakthrough Fresh Market from Breakthrough Urban Ministries on Vimeo.



Breakthrough Adult Services from Breakthrough Urban Ministries on Vimeo.


I am so thankful to be a part of the transformative work of Breakthrough.

Estate Sale

I imagine that when he approached the Teacher that day, he already had a pretty good idea of the pat on the back he was going to get.

Pushing through the people, with their babies, their diseases, their needs, the young man stepped up to the Teacher himself.

The question was meant to be a straight forward one.  Tell me what I need to do and- if I'm not already doing it- I'll get on it.  I'll check off that box.  I'll do what I need to do to get the results I want.  

But the Teacher knew the man's heart.  He knew what was at the man's core, and that- despite his actions of purity- his heart was far from where it needed to be.  "There is still one thing lacking.  Sell all that you own and distribute the money to the poor, and you will have treasure in heaven; then, come follow Me."  But when he heard this, he became sad; for he was very rich. ** _______________________________________

I can't help but think that many of us- like the young man- walk away from the true heart of the Gospel, sad that we will have to make what we believe to be such a great sacrifice.  Whether it be our wealth, our power, our comfort or our family, we are saddened by the idea that we can't keep those things that we hold so close.  But Teacher, isn't my outward obedience enough?  I've loved you.  I've been good since I was just a young kid.  I've kept your law.  I've loved people.  Isn't that what getting eternal life is about?  Do you really need this extra sacrifice? 

I don't know what it is that fills your heart, sucks your time and steals your thoughts.  Maybe it's the deep yearning to be someone, to have a voice and to earn the approval of men.  Maybe it is the rampant materialism, so pervasive in our culture- from over sized houses to walk-in closets, to $700 pairs of shoes.  Maybe it is your deep desire to just be comfortable, to have enough, to not be in want.  For me, it is all these things and probably more.

But like the rich young ruler, the Teacher is calling His children, His church, to something more.  To a life dedicated not to the decorating of a house or the seat in the board room, but to a life lived for Him and poured out for others.  A life that gives sacrificially to others and follows Him to those places where others are hurting, abused and dying, where there are deep physical, spiritual and emotional needs.  

Maybe you'll be one of the very few who can truly have these other things- the power, the money, the comfort- and still have the Teacher seated at the center of your heart.  (What is impossible for mortals is possible for God.)  But I suspect that more often than not, it is these things that cloud our heart, blur our vision and keep us from truly surrendering ourselves to the transformative power and work of the Gospel.  It is these things that, while not keeping us from church, or fellowship or even prayer or reading, keep us from the heart of the Teacher's message.  We are so deeply, deeply afraid that He will call us to more, to sacrifice these things that in so many ways define us.  And we are so completely afraid of this sacrifice.  
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More than anything else in my life, I want to have the Teacher seated at the center of my heart.  More than children, more than a home, even more than my husband, I want to take the Teacher at His word and follow Him. Don't get me wrong.  I hope and pray that M gets a wonderful job to use his God-given passions and knowledge, that we're able to own a home one day and that we have a house full of children.  I hope that we can use our home as a place of ministry, providing a safe haven for the orphaned and widowed, and feeding the hungry.  If this isn't what the Lord gives us, I know that as long as we are following His leading, we will be ok.  And yet in some ways, this scares me more than I can even imagine- sacrificing so fully, giving up my own agenda and own way.

But even just in this year of living so differently than we ever have before- I've learned that this "sacrifice" really is no sacrifice at all.  Yes, loving Him costs me everything...and yet costs me nothing.  Sometimes we are so afraid of the sacrifice that we can't even imagine how we might go on living without it.  But when He is in His right place, I am my best self and my Father is most glorified in me.  And whatever sacrifice there might be quickly transforms into great joy.  That is the Gospel.


**(Luke 18:22-23)

My Bank Account Thanks You

Remember how a couple months ago I blogged about getting reimbursed for some doctor's bills that I had (wrongly) paid and insurance had (wrongly) not paid?  Oh you don't?  I'll refresh your memory here.

Notice the date of that post.  August 1st.  Notice the date of today.  October 5th.

And that, my friends, is how long it takes to get a reimbursement from the University of Chicago Hospital Center.  Two months and four days.  Did I mention that somehow in that time they were still able to send me another bill?  But not a reimbursement?  Oh, right.  Of course.  (Please note, we got our tax refund check last year in less than two weeks.  I'm just saying.)

Oh, and the icing on the cake?  We got the check yesterday.  Then, when M got the mail today...there was another check.  For the exact same amount.  From the exact same hospital.  For the exact same account.

You can't make this stuff up.

(And no, we are not going to cash check number two.  Or rather, M says we can't, despite my plea that it's the payment of "interest.")